


Voyage of Passion and Purpose

by JumpingTheMoon



Series: Danganronpa: The Voyage [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Despair Disease (Dangan Ronpa), Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Mystery, Polyamory, Romance, Wimp Brigade/Black Hats, eventual polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-07 08:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 373,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumpingTheMoon/pseuds/JumpingTheMoon
Summary: The last thing anybody remembers is getting accepted into Hope's Peak Academy, going there to start their college education at Japan's premier institution, and then waking up together. What's going on? Why are forty-eight Ultimate students being held against their will? Is there a way out of here? Either way, how long will it take before relationships develop and passions run totally out of control on this strange island paradise?LATEST CHAPTER►To The New World! (Tsumugi)| All in all, a pretty nice morning for her.Come join theOfficial Voyage Discord Serverand be a part of our friendly community of Danganronpa fans! We like murder, but we're very civil about it...? I post updates about the fic in real time, including previews of upcoming chapters, there.





	1. 0-1. Welcome to Hope Island I (Kaede)

**Author's Note:**

> Danganronpa is a series which relies heavily on plot reveals and mysteries. This means getting spoiled on any of it really sucks, and I know this from experience. So, a word of warning. This story might feature spoilers from the three Danganronpa main series games at any time. It’s not necessary to have gone through any of them to enjoy this hopefully, but I do recommend doing that. Because they’re all top-class games. Reviews and author’s notes may spoil anything about the three games at any point.
> 
> Tags are bound to change as I make plans and they develop, but the ones right now are ones I absolutely have set in my head. Characters will be tagged as they gain prominence.

**E** erie green light bathed a lecture hall. Which was empty, except for a trio of bodies.

Concentric stair-step rings of seats, in the style of an amphitheater, were shaded with long shadows. Going higher in the room meant more darkness, and the top seating was pitch black. As a blonde girl raised her head, blinking away the fog from her eyes and squinting away from the rectangle of green light from the room’s smartboard, she looked around. Anywhere else. The first thing to really hit her highly-trained ears was the low mumbling chatter of static.

Hazed-over purple eyes cast one way, and then the other, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. Kaede Akamatsu looked for anything to ground herself. The room indeed looked vaguely familiar, but in a general rather than specific sense. As in, she’d been in a lot of classrooms in her life, but none quite like this. The lecture podium in front of the board had some strange logo emblazoned on it.

Wasn’t that the logo of Hope’s Peak Academy?

Kaede had been in lecture halls aplenty, even before starting out her college life. This particular one looked strange and alien to her groggy mind. The low light conditions didn’t help, but even if spotlights were shining, she wouldn’t see anything familiar or comforting. Certainly nothing of comfort; this was Hope’s Peak, where stress was the word of the day every day, and competition was heavy among the students. Supposedly, from what she heard.

If that was the logo of HPA, and every person growing up in Japan was quite familiar with it, then surely, she had to have made it into the big time! In fact, she remembered the sweep of elation, the thrill at being chosen. But nothing after it, like all the necessary steps that brought her from her home, to ending up in this lecture hall.

A natural question, half-formed on her lips, came instead from off her left side. A male voice, slightly high pitched. “Where am I?” Naturally, Kaede turned in her seat to face the voice, and spotted a brown-haired boy with distinctly spiky hair awakening from what looked like his own nap. He had a dark green hoodie on, and his appearance was… normal. Average. Cute, but like, cute-average. He looked just like the room, to Kaede. While the specific features didn’t ring any bells, he just had one of those faces.

Still in that foggy twilight before the mind can really think well, Kaede answered. “Good question.” The boy turned to face her, eyes widening. She waved meekly. “Ah. Hi there?”

In Kaede’s other ear, she heard rustling and shuffling. One level above her seating, a figure leaned forward out of the darkness. In the dim lighting, his appearance became visible. Like the other boy, he had brown hair, and it was a bit spiky, contrasting her own blonde fluff. Another thing the three had in common, Kaede realized as she reached up to gingerly pat her hair, was that they obviously couldn’t get all of it to stop standing straight up.

Only after she contemplated the mysteries of idiot-hair did it occur to Kaede that waking up in a strange room, with two strange boys, was something that should alarm any girl quite a bit. She tensed up, looking from one guy to the other. At least both of them looked just as disheveled and confused.

“I don’t suppose either of you know how we got here?" The boy on her right asked from above, his question echoing well in the nice, roomy acoustics of the lecture hall. His voice had a brighter tone, although not necessarily a warmer one. “For that matter, what happened last night? My head’s killing me.”

For the life of her, Kaede couldn’t pull anything up that sounded like a useful answer. Or much of anything. Other than the absolute most obvious things. Her name and what she was good at, her core skill, both came easily to mind. Being an Ultimate meant that her identity was defined by that talent. It was the reason she was there, after all. Hope’s Peak Academy was always looking for the best and brightest. Normal people need not even apply, usually. Being accepted into such a university guaranteed a person success for life.

Assuming they managed to graduate. Kaede was determined to make that happen, regardless of what it cost her. She didn’t go there to party and make friends as much as she did to graduate and get it done. However, her list of ideas for why she woke up among strangers, in a strange land, started short and was getting shorter by the second. “A super wild party?”

The boy above shook his head. “In a classroom? I’m pretty sure the whole campus shuts down at night. Right?”

“I just got here,” The other boy, the one more on her level, offered. Both Kaede, and the other, quickly nodded. He got to his feet. “Uh. … Whatever’s going on, we should still introduce ourselves! Nice to meet you guys. I’m Makoto Naegi, the, well. The Ultimate Lucky Student.”

“Huh, that’s really something. You’re the guy who won the lottery this year?” Makoto nodded, looking far more sheepish than Kaede expected from somebody talking about their own Ultimate talent. Regardless, she felt a sense of relief rush through her, and she pressed her hands together. If both of these boys were fellow Ultimates, then she didn’t have a thing to worry about-

“I, uh. That’s weird… I don’t remember what my Ultimate talent is.” The other boy didn’t sound particularly concerned about that. “That must have been some party. Uh, I’m Hajime Hinata.” While Makoto gave off earnest vibes, Hajime there was a lot tougher to read.

Not that figuring out the honorifics and titles to call somebody was really important right then.

Neither seemed like bad guys, at least. She let herself smile, and released a breath she was holding in. “And I’m Kaede Akamatsu!” She held her fists in the air as she declared, “I’m the Ultimate Pianist.”

Both Hajime and Makoto were appropriately awed by her talent, which was another good sign about them. Makoto especially took a few steps towards her, which helped Kaede appreciate how large and cavernous the lecture hall really was. He still wasn’t really crowding into her personal space.

“Wow! I kind of did a lot of research of Ultimates and stuff before I got accepted into Hope’s Peak, and now that I think about it, your name totally came up, Kaede. You’ve performed in front of actual royalty, right?”

“Ehe.” Kaede waved it off with affected humility. “I mean, I’m sure you guys have some great talent too.”

Hajime was the one to break up the love parade, by walking over to the stairs connecting each level, and heading downwards. He walked to the lecture podium and regarded it, and the blank papers messily piled atop it. He looked over the smartboard. It appeared to be disabled or disconnected from whatever server it had. It didn’t respond to voice or touch inputs, or the little e-pen docked to one side. He did find how to shut off the annoying static; the power button on one side of the mounted frame.

Thus pitching the room into abject, complete inky darkness, until he found the button again.

“... Hey, what’s with those windows?” Makoto was the first to notice the next odd thing about this room. While there were indeed windows on the wall, running upwards from the lecture podium to near the high ceiling, each and everyone was covered in huge, thick iron plates. “Are those metal plates?” None of them could reach high enough to test it out, but somehow, Kaede doubted those were real slabs of metal.

Telling the time of day would be impossible. She reached into a pocket of her light pink sweater-vest, and came up empty-handed. “... Hey, my phone’s gone!” At this, both boys reached into their own pockets, and found nothing there, either.

“Yeah, so’s mine, and my wallet. Hajime?”

“Same.”

Perhaps it was a silly thing, or made her a stereotypical college student or whatever. But realizing that all their phones were missing struck something dark in Kaede’s stomach, and knotted it up. It combined with a bunch of other little and big things about their situation, and produced a creeping sense of pure dread. Neither boy seemed to be troublesome, and in fact, they were in the same boat. But everything about the actual boat they were in was too strange. Were they knocked out somehow? Did somebody go through and take their stuff while they were out?

Kaede decided to go up, instead of down, right towards the doors to the room. They were almost hidden in shadow, but she found her way to them. She was relieved to test the doors with her shoulder, and to find that, with some effort, they would move for her. What she saw outside, in the hallways of the Academy, was just as puzzling.

“... Weeds?”

With little else to gain from the empty classroom, the three Ultimates agreed to head out together. Until they knew what was going on, sticking together was the smart move. Both boys soon saw what she was talking about as they stepped outside, and they blinked in surprise.

The hallways of what they could only assume was Hope’s Peak Academy, their college of choice, a premier national institution, were a total mess. Not just messy, although it did look like a few riots had perhaps come through. But, as Kaede found even more strange, weeds and plants were growing near the sides of walls, and through cracks in the floor. At least the windows out there weren’t covered, and were letting in plenty of sunlight. Green and purple eyes all had to blink away tears and squint until they adjusted, but at least they could see each other better.

Hajime’s white shirt and green tie suited his more businesslike nature, while Makoto had a nice thing going with his hoodie. As long as it was down. If he actually put the hood up, he’d look like an egg, for lack of any better mental image. Especially with the fact that he was a bit on the shorter side, standing about eye level with Kaede, who was no giant. Hajime didn’t tower over either of them, but definitely had to look down. He was tall and lanky. All three were pretty pale, indicating their hobbies ran towards indoor things. Kaede didn’t find many grand pianos out in the woods.

A sense of anxiety and uncertainty about their situation made Kaede’s mind feel razor-sharp, even though she just woke up. She was taking in even small details, like the way motes of dust visibly shimmered in the beams of sunlight when they walked nearby.

“This building is abandoned,” Makoto said. “Or it looks that way. I wonder if anyone else is here?” The others shrugged. So he cupped a hand to his mouth, and yelled, _“Hey! Heey! Is anybody else here?!”_

As if that would just get a reply in this weird, unsettling place-

 _“Yeah! Hold on a second!”_ Somebody replied from down the winding, twisting corridors. Actually, to Kaede’s ears, it sounded like Makoto’s echo was talking back to him. A similar voice, similar tone, and she was rarely wrong about anything that had to do with sound. She almost expected another Makoto to appear, but instead, somebody new stepped into view, framed by a beam of sunlight like a heavenly aura. “There you are.”

It was another tall, lanky boy. This time, one with puffy, messy white hair, that looked a bit like cotton candy. It practically glowed in the light. He had quite an intense stare. From the way he was dressed, green coat and interestingly-designed white t-shirt, Kaede could guess he wasn’t part of the staff.

He was, however, like the other two. In that he was cute.

“Hey there,” Kaede said, waving. “... Did you wake up here, too?”

“Yep.”

“Any idea what’s going on?” Hajime asked, looking the boy over with skepticism. He looked between Makoto and him, back and forth, as if making the same mental connection that Kaede had. Both seemed pretty fond of green for clothing, along with a bit of red; Makoto’s shirt underneath, and Komaeda’s pixel pattern thing off one of his shoulders. At least their eyes were different shades of green.

“Nope. I suppose you guys are fellow students?”

“Correct,” Hajime replied. “This is Kaede, the Ultimate Pianist. Makoto over there’s the Ultimate Lucky Student, who won that national drawing for the right to enroll. And as for me, call me Hajime… and I’m _really_ hoping I’ll remember my talent soon.”

“I’m sure it’ll come to you, it seems like we’re all missing parts of our memories. That’s super weird, right? Oh. I’m Nagito Komaeda. I’m also the Ultimate Lucky Student. That’s also strange, huh?”

“Yeah,” Makoto agreed. “I mean, there’s only one chosen each year, right? Um, are you an upperclassman?” Kaede had to admit, Nagito carried himself a little differently than the other two boys. His manner was relaxed, and he didn’t seem to be going through the lowkey worry and open confusion the others were feeling, and trying to cover up. Kaede included.

“Nah. I was gonna ask you the same thing. I’m a first year, just starting out on my degree after high school. Is that the same story for you all?” Nods greeted him, and he cupped his chin thoughtfully, glancing aside. “Well, add it to the mystery pile.”

“By the way, how did you know we were missing memories?” Kaede asked.

“Because I am, too. Well, and I ran into another pair of students a while back. They were wandering around and checking out the place too. It’s the same story with them. We agreed to look for clues and meet up at the entrance hall.”

Makoto smiled brightly. “Oh, nice. Mind if we come along?”

“The more the merrier. Honestly, I’m glad to have a bunch of Ultimates here with me. I don’t have much confidence in my own ‘talent’ at all.” Komaeda hugged himself as if cold, and gave a little shiver.

“I know the feeling,” Makoto agreed, his smile now more nervous than anything. “I mean, Kaede here’s done some super amazing things already. The same is probably true for Hajime. But the two of us are just normal guys who got picked literally at random. Ah, sorry...”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re speaking my language. But I’m sure you’re way cooler than I am, Makoto. It’d be hard to get any more lame, haha. Come on, let’s check out the rest of this place. It’s pretty huge. I mean, I doubt the others even heard you.”

The marble hallways of the academy would carry sound well. They were spacious, and everything Kaede expected of Hope’s Peak. Really, it fit what her mental image of a ‘college’ should be, generically speaking… aside from also fitting her mental image of ‘ruin’. A beautiful ruin, but nonetheless, an abandoned building. How long could they all have been sleeping in this place? What would have brought any of them to an abandoned building in the first place?

Had she gotten in over her depth, like involved in some sort of crime? The thought made her face darken, but it wasn’t too likely.

None of the guys she’d met looked like hardened criminals or anything. They were probably just guilty of normal college stuff, like perhaps some, uh, unorthodox medicine usage.

Especially Nagito. He was _really_ relaxed.

As he predicted, though, nobody came to check out the yelling. So, the newly-formed party of four started to investigate every room they came across. Kaede’s fingers were already feeling itchy, but unfortunately, no pianos were waiting for her in any of the lecture halls, smaller classrooms, and meeting areas. She would have even been fine playing some cheap electric atrocity, or even a kids’ toy, if it meant she could relieve everyone’s tensions and lighten the oppressive atmosphere. Somehow, telling them the names of songs, and asking them to envision the lovely, soothing tones, didn’t help.

Then again, even the best musician needed a good instrument to get anywhere. If the instrument wasn’t up to snuff, nothing could ever come out right.

“Ah, sorry, Kaede. I’m not really knowledgeable about music.”

“Oh, right… that song, that one is really, uh good.”

“That’s a foreign thing, right? I really only listen to alternative rock.”

Sheesh. Maybe there was something wrong with those guys, after all.

The amount of locked doors that the group found was notable. It got to be that more of the doors they tried didn’t yield than did. It was troublesome, but none of the four Ultimates assembled were much for physical strength. Hajime was probably their fighter by default if they ran into any trouble, but the mere thought was absurd. Then again, who took their stuff and left them here? And how did they do it?

Nobody had anything like answers by the time they wandered towards what Nagito assured them was the entrance hall. Kaede listened for other people, and over the shuffle and bustle of her own group, she picked up faint voices ahead. One was way more faint than the other. As she thought, the sound carried well from all the marble and wide-open spaces. Well, and her ears could hear a casual conversation happening countless meters away.

_“... sure he’ll be along soon, try not to worry about him. Nagito seemed like he knew how to handle himself.”_

A vibrant, energetic female voice. The more Kaede heard of that voice, the more she wanted to hear of it; its owner had a great set of pipes, that was all there was to it. Her talents probably lay in some kind of performance. Spotting somebody who was used to speaking loudly and clearly wasn’t tough, even for normal people. Much less a musical mastermind.

Or, as the kids used to call her back in middle and high school, Piano Freak.

_“Yeah, I suppose. I just can’t help but wonder, well. Who would have anything to gain by kidnapping a bunch of students?”_

On the other hand, the male voice that drifted towards her wasn’t very strong. Even though the girl was coming in loud and clear, Kaede felt like her ears were radios not quite tuned to the right station when the boy spoke. He was so soft, almost like he was whispering. Kaede suspected that spoke more to his attitude than him trying to be careful, but he did have a point. They could all be in some serious kind of trouble, and they were just wandering about blindly.

_“We can’t really say anything yet, in my opinion. Except that we’re okay. Which has to count for something. Come on, Shuichi, hold your head up! We’ll get through this. We’re Ultimates, after all!”_

_“Miss Maizono, you’re probably right, I shouldn’t worry-”_

_“Sayaka, please. I’m not really anyone special, as I said.”_

_“Um. I’ll t-try to remember that.”_

The conversation died off. Before too long, the group pulled down a winding staircase, and arrived at what must have been the entrance hall. The logo of Hope’s Peak was unmistakably emblazoned on the floor, although the white marble tiles were broken, dirty, and full of undergrowth. On the far side of a large, ornate lobby full of broken, empty trophy cases and faded photographs, stood another pair of students, just as Nagito said.

The two couldn’t have stood as more of a contrast, aside from both having a roughly blue color palette. Miss Maizono’s long, beautiful silky hair was a dark blue, matching her eyes. She was dressed in the kind of school uniform one expected of a high schooler, although from her curves, and how it fit, Kaede figured it was tailored for her recently. She had long, thick legs, and as a result, seemed a touch tall for a girl.

Shuichi over there continued the trend of pretty, thin, pretty thin boys, although Kaede wasn’t about to start complaining. At all. His uniform was some kind of a custom design, but very dapper and stylish; a button-up coat, with a familiar crest or badge on it. Dark blue hair, messy, beneath a cap that he tugged lower and lower, to try and conceal his eyes. They were a shade of brown bordering on grey, and moved around nervously. He spotted the group, but since he saw Nagito, Kaede saw him relax just a little.

Miss Maizono waved. “Nagito! Are these people your friends?”

“No, we just met. Kaede, the Ultimate Pianist. Makoto, the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

Miss Maizono looked from one green-glad Ultimate Lucky Student to the other, and back again several times. “How is that possible?”

“We’re still working on that. And, Hajime. His talent is unknown, he can’t remember it.”

“How is _that_ possible?!”

“Working on that, too. And everyone else, this is Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”

“Have we?! I can’t believe anybody in Japan hasn’t,” Makoto said, eyes bright. In fact, he looked positively awestruck; he seemed to find the other Ultimates in his party a little intimidating, much less having to deal with an honest to goodness celebrity. Kaede couldn’t blame him. While Makoto was right about Kaede playing for royalty before, the king of that small European country didn’t really… act the part. Well, he was noble in the actual sense of the word, being kind and speaking in an old-fashioned manner, but he hadn’t had the pressure of personality that Sayaka was exerting just standing around.

It felt like the room was hers, and certainly, all of the guys had their eyes on her. That was probably inevitable in any situation.

Sayaka herself waved this off, though. Just as Kaede had. Although the Ultimate Pianist felt Sayaka had way less grounds to do so. “Well, I’ve done some things on the national stage, but really, none of that matters in our current situation, right?” That was at least a point. The only way the Ultimate Idol was likely to solve a crime would be if it was a matter of ransom, and her agency paid millions of yen or something.

If that was the case, though, it was very unlikely any of them would be walking around freely, especially Maizono. “Please, just call me Sayaka. If anything, you should be in awe of Shuichi here! Tell them, Nagito!” With an obvious flair for the dramatic, she motioned over towards her ‘partner’. His laid-back reactions and smooth, admittedly quite sexy voice, would have made the pair a decent duo for comedy routines. If this was any situation for jokes.

“Right. Last but certainly not least, the guy who’s probably going to get us out of this whole mess.” Nagito went over and clapped a hand on Shuichi’s shoulder. Although from the way the other wiry boy was looking around, in panic, at all the eyes turning to him, it seemed more like he was keeping Shuichi from fleeing. “Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective.”

Nobody else had a talent which really implied they could get anything done if they were all in trouble, but Kaede had to admit. She was glad to hear about this one. “Really?” She clapped her hands together, and took a step forward. “That’s awesome. I mean, it’s already awesome that you’re the Ultimate Detective, but we’re lucky to have you in this situation!” Whatever the situation actually was, it was probably the sort of thing a mystery-solving, crime-fighting person should handle.

“Hey, maybe our talents worked out after all,” Makoto said, and he couldn’t help a laugh. Nagito shrugged helplessly and couldn’t help his own smile, even if he might have privately wondered if their ‘luck’ really came into play. Regardless, it was a fortunate break for them.

Not that Shuichi seemed to think so. He went beyond demure, especially for a guy. Kaede saw him physically bend and bow underneath all these expectations. “I really appreciate that, guys, but, uh. Listen, I have that title, but I’m not really much of a Detective until I graduate. Heck, that’s only the start of my real career. Until then, I mean, um. I can try to help out.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Hajime spoke up. “Well, it’s you, or hoping that Sayaka can politely ask whoever’s doing this to stop.” He looked over Sayaka once again. And then down. Kaede noticed where those eyes were going, don’t think she didn’t-

Sayaka and Kaede made Shuichi particularly nervous when they moved closer towards him. “It’s natural to be concerned, Shuichi. But you’re still an Ultimate, just like us,” Kaede said, and Sayaka nodded reassuringly. “And it’s not like we’re asking you to get us all out of here on your own. As long as we’re all in the same situation, we’ve got to work together.” Everyone agreed without even a moment’s hesitation. Even though they were strangers in the strict sense, and even though they all might have had concerns about their own talent, each of them were Ultimates, one way or the other.

They were in this together.

Now, all that was left was to figure out what ‘this’ really was.

As if summoned by her curiosity, a musical chime sounded through the school, startling everyone into looking around. Of course, the building had a PA system with speakers. Kaede spotted them immediately, or rather, homed in on the noise they were making.

A female voice came out of the speakers, and it was bright and cheerful like Sayaka’s. Although there was something of a… different quality about the tone. It was more intensely cheerful, sickly-sweet and honeyed.

_“Attention, all students. This is an announcement from your professor. Please gather at the park on the central island as soon as you can. Thank you!”_

Nobody knew what to make of that. There was silence in the aftermath. Most of the six-strong group of confused Ultimates were still looking at each other, staring at the speaker, or echoing “island?” in confusion, when Hajime pushed open the front doors before them.

That let in a tremendous burst of light through the ruined Academy. It forced the others to shield their eyes. They followed, though. There was clearly nothing for them in within the building, and their curiosity pulled them forward, in spite of their dread. Even the more timid members of the party didn’t want to let Hajime go forward alone into the unknown.

Leaving the mysterious building, the students were greeted by the bright, shining sun.

Right in their eyes.

It showed how long Kaede had been searching with the others, since she woke up in that dark classroom. The blinding light took several moments to adjust to. As she held up a white-sleeved arm from her shirt underneath the pink sweater vest, she concentrated on what her other senses were telling her. For Kaede, that meant her ears, which were already highly attuned, clearly picked up the roar and crash of ocean waves all around them. That was the dominant sound, although she heard seagulls too, calling faintly from above. After that, the sounds were definitely the complaining and noises made from the other students as they went outside and experienced a similar assault on their senses.

That wasn’t all, though. Kaede smelled something. The smell of sea air, familiar from family trips to Yakushima when she was a kid. She felt the wind upon her, warm, just like the air was warm. The sun overhead embraced her, and in the seconds before she could look around, Kaede already felt the heat. It wasn’t at quite an uncomfortable level, but clearly, the environment was different. That derelict smartboard back there, and the PA system, proved Hope’s Peak still had some kind of climate control going, and without it, their environment was warm.

Finally, she felt comfortable opening her eyes, blinking away the haze to reveal the others. They were standing in front of a beautiful, painted ocean, which stretched out before them, glittering white sunlight off the gentle waves which rolled and crashed in on the beachfront. There was beachfront stretching to either side, although a lot of it was more rocky than inviting, and there were even some jagged cliffs on the horizon. Immediately around them, the students stood on a footpath, which wrapped around and followed the curve of the land, and headed towards groves of swaying palm trees. Coconuts and all. On top of fields of verdant green grass, which was growing wild and tall in many areas.

Kaede spun around on her sneaker-clad heel, and looked up. The building they’d just left looked just like she remembered it in form, but all the details were just, wrong. They fit with the inside, and showed complete, abandoned desolation. While the building wasn’t broken or damaged, vines and plants had just taken over the outside. It reminded her of those documentaries people would make, talking about how the world would look if humanity just vanished, and nature reclaimed it all. The painted brown walls and dirty, smudged tall glass windows were barely visible in some places. There were no obvious lights on, although the sunlight made that nearly impossible to tell.

The crest of Hope’s Peak Academy was there too, of course. As if a final, sullen reminder that this place was, in fact, the real deal. Which was flatly impossible.

“Okay, I’ll take the lowest hanging fruit,” Nagito said, holding his head and pressing a hand into his own white floof as he stood beside Kaede, and looked up where she was looking. “Just to start. Does anybody happen to remember Hope’s Peak Academy being on a tropical island?”

Silence.

“Yeah, same here.”

Somehow, the more Kaede learned about their situation, the less she understood. At all. Now she was the one to say the thing on everyone’s minds. She said it loud, as if shouting at the abandoned college for answers. Or perhaps demanding them from the beautiful, placid clear blue sky.

“Where _are_ we?!”

**-**

**ACT 0: A Brave New World**

**-**

 


	2. 0-2. Welcome to Hope Island II (Makoto)

Hope’s Peak Academy was not, in fact, on a tropical island. Of course.

That would be ridiculous.

The six Ultimate college students quickly determined this by just walking down the paved footpath set out before them. It ran alongside the sea, whose waves crashed against the shore in a regular pattern, and filled their ears with a different, all-natural kind of static. The sun beat down on them mercilessly. Hajime figured from its position in the sky that it was still early morning.

No, Hope’s Peak wasn’t on an island in the middle of the ocean. It was on one of a series of connected islands, in the middle of the ocean.

“Or in other words, an archipelago,” Shuichi said. If that broadcast mentioned a ‘central’ island, then logically, that required the existence of non-central ones. The island they were on right now was sizable; some minutes of walking were required just for them to see another building rise up out of the palm trees and rampant foliage. As they drew closer, they saw it claimed to be a library of some kind.

The sign was in Japanese, which was helpful to take note of. Nagito said, “I’m pretty sure Japanese isn’t a lingua franca anywhere in the world, so we’ve got to be nearby in the sea, probably.”

“How did you know that, Nagito?” Hajime asked.

Nagito gave him a soft smile. “You know how they say ‘may you live in interesting times’ is a curse? I’ve lived an interesting life, Hajime.”

“... I think we’re all cursed, then,” Makoto said, as the group arrived at a scene straight out of science fiction. The library itself was quickly forgotten in the face of another impossible event.

Seeing a giant robot stomping about the island, bulldozing old rubble and trees, would do that to anyone. After all, mecha didn’t actually exist. News headlines said they might soon, and some scientists had a robot fight once for publicity, but nothing resembling anime-style big hulking metal beasts was real. Yet there one was. Charcoal-grey metal, with a blue paint job around some of what looked like the cockpit area. Massive arms and legs that groaned with effort and whined from motors all over.

It was standing off the beaten path, and clearing the jungle with heavy power tools, making a hellish noise from buzzsaws and grinding wood and stone underfoot. Even from some distance away, it was pretty loud.

Clearly, they weren’t the only ones who were drawn by the noise. Makoto spotted six students on the other side of the footpath, also standing awe of the robot. Actually, they weren’t really transfixed by the impossible sight. It was more like some of them were trying to hold back others from rushing over to it.

Once the two groups spotted each other, though, the robot faded into the background for the moment. Based on the outlandish, bright colors, Makoto had to guess these were more Ultimates. How many were taken?

“Hey there,” The loudest one called to them, once close enough to be heard over the construction work. He was a tall, mature looking man with purple hair, a purple goatee, and a sweet jacket whose interior appeared to be a starry sky pattern that glittered in the tropical sunlight, stepped forward. He raised a hand in friendly greeting. “Pretty cool, huh? We were on our way to the central island like that announcement said, when we found… this guy. No clue what he’s doing, but he’s not trying to attack us, so we shouldn’t bother him either. _Right_ , Miu? _Right_ , Kazuichi?”

The two individuals addressed, the ones who were scrambling to assault the large mech with their bare hands for some reason, kicked dirt and pebbles in a sullen fashion, and didn’t reply. Miu was probably the girl, dressed in bright pink, and with long hair of a similar shade. She had on a pair of goggles atop her head, sported barbed-wire tattoos on her neck, and wore big leather boots. She looked like an absurdist fusion of a steampunk inventor, and a punk rock idol.

There was no way to mistake it. This was a girl he’d read so much chatter about during his research.

The guy wasn’t much more subtle about anything. In a bright yellow jumpsuit, laden with pockets, which were laden with tools, and he had a belt of them around his waist to boot. He also looked reasonably strong, and far less twig-like than the guys in Makoto’s party. Himself definitely included. The weirdest thing about Kazuichi had to be those teeth, though. His teeth were jagged, and sharp.

As though he was a shark.

“Anyway. Nice to see some friendly faces! I’m the leader of this bunch, and my name is Kaito Momota. I’m the Luminary of the Stars, don’t you forget!” Kaito found a convenient rock to prop his foot up, so that he could lean forward and declare that. With one hand on his jacket, which wasn’t actually being worn normally, and the other on his leg, he struck a pose just like a heroic statue or something. “And officially, I’m listed as the Ultimate Astronaut. Although I’m still in training, haha. Never been to space yet, but it’s only a matter of time!”

Nagito’s eyes lit up. “That’s so amazing. Even the normal people of the world know enough to look up to astronauts. So if you’re the Ultimate Astronaut… it’s no wonder everyone agreed to have you be their leader.”

“Well. It was kinda more just like I said I was, and nobody said no. But that’s good enough for me! Somebody’s got to take charge, and put an end to this crazy situation!”

Kaede stepped forward. “Do you have a plan to get us out of here?”

“Haven’t got all the specifics hammered out, but I mean, we got the most important thing here already. Spirit! The willingness to go even further beyond! If anything, most of this bunch’s got too much spirit, but that’s just the kind of crew I like.” He gave a big grin and a thumbs-up. Kaede, Hajime, and Makoto all shared a look. “Anyhow! Without further adieu, my crew! First and second are Miu and Kazuichi here. Miu is-”

“Fucking shut it for a second, plum bob!” The world stopped, and the very pink punk moved to the front of the group, where she could better flip off Kaito. “That is no way to introduce the great Miu Iruma, Ultimate Inventor! I’ll do it way better by myself. Just like how I have to get myself off because you can’t fuckin’ figure out where to even put that di-”

“Ahem.” Kaede coughed loudly. “... How would you like to be introduced, then?”

After a moment passed, Miu realized what she’d done, and there was a moment of lip-biting panic. Her face paled, and she wasn’t very tan to begin with. Then, on the rebound so quickly that Makoto got whiplash, there was another violent explosion from her mouth. “Can it, flat-top!”

That was most certainly a false allegation. Not that Makoto would look there for any particular reason. It was just tough not to notice. Actually, for Kaede and Miu there, neither were, uh. Flat at all. At all. They were rather the opposite. Kaede puffed out her cheeks, blushing but also glaring a hole into the inventor. Not that Miu seemed to notice.

“I’m a literal fuckin’ god!”

Makoto started to suspect that Nagito was poking these eccentric personalities on purpose, for fun. Without missing a beat, he asked, “Then, if you’re a god, can you get us off this island?”

“.... I’m a metaphorical fuckin’ god! A-And a god of fuckin’, just so you know! Not that any of you virgins would know! Hahaha! And for your information, Yes. In fact, I can whip up some inventions that will get us out of this hellhole in a heartbeat. I just need a first-class national research lab, a factory setup, some generous funding, and hopefully a good team of desperate, thirsty eggheads who’ll do whatever I say!”

Kazuichi ran a hand through his shock-purple hair besides Miu. “Where are we gonna find any of that? Aside from the tools I had on me, we haven’t found anything even remotely industrial. Except for Big Daddy over there.”

“Well, I found enough thirsty nerds to fit the bill, but I doubt any of you fucks and cucks are even fit to be on the same team as the great-”

“Sheesh, we get it,” Kaede continued to glare, crossing her arms. “Your vulgar speech is uncalled for! Is that any way to talk to somebody you just met?”

“... Heeee!” That was a quick turnaround. Miu went from a raging typhoon of energy, to a scared little girl, in the space between infinities.

“Ahem. Nice to meet you guys. I’m Kazuichi Soda, the Ultimate Mechanic.” The jump-suited guy gave a big thumbs up and a friendly smile, and Makoto couldn’t help but return the expression. While he didn’t recall anything from his research on an Ultimate Mechanic, at least he seemed slightly more grounded. Not that he was hitting a particularly high bar, standing next to the rapidly unraveling Miu.

“I mean, if there are huge robots, they’ve got to have maintenance and supplies, repairs, a hangar somewhere for storage… r-right? We could use that...”

Kaede gave a beaming bright smile towards the mechanic, by contrast, pointedly ignoring Miu’s mumbling and nervous fluffy wiggles. “It’s a pleasure, Kazuichi. Let me introduce you to my own, uh, ‘crew’. I guess.” She rolled her eyes, but nonetheless had a smile on her face as she ran down her own newly-made friends. It was only polite that they introduce themselves before these strangers.

Makoto expected Kazuichi to go wild about Sayaka, but surprisingly, he just gave her a polite nod. No, it was Kaede herself, once finished with her spiel, who got most of the mechanic’s attention. “Are you the leader of your group, Miss Kaede?”

Kaede blushed. “Kaede’s fine, and, uh.” She looked around to the others, and nobody had any problem with it, so she shrugged.

“I suppose I am, if nobody else wants to. Not that it counts for much.”

Miu continued to wiggle. “If I could make something that had an EMP effect, we could totally take this big hunk of metal apart, and make him call us daddy instead…”

“I dunno, I think you and Kaito are both super cool for trying to take charge of this whole thing, and get us out of here.”

That was a little grand. Kaede had only woken up in a place, explored it it with some other confused people, and yelled at the sky so far. And the sky still wasn’t talking, in spite of the pressure placed on it. Apparently, Kaede felt the same way Makoto did, and she shook her head. “Sheesh.”

“Aw man, blonde girls are just the best.” The look of adoration on Kazuichi’s face, and the hearty blush that came to his face, was actually a little distressing in its intensity. “Super cute~” Welp, guys were guys. Makoto knew the feeling, even if he didn’t tend to declare such things out loud. At least Kazuichi wasn’t cursing them all out.

“.... Guys... I have some great ideas, I just swear at people to get attention they don’t give me… Guys…”

“Hey, as funny as it is to see you try to flirt, Kazuichi, you’re holding up the rest of our crew from introducing themselves!” Kaito smacked his fists together. It had been easy to forget that Kaito’s group had six people too; three of them were so loud and bombastic. The other three had waited quietly in the background, shuffling around as if wondering when they’d get noticed.

“Everyone here is a valuable member of my team, even if they’re not quite as forceful as we are yet. Nobody’s perfect! Come on, guys.”

There were two cute girls. They were ‘cute’ in different ways, but both undoubtedly merited the description. The shorter one had well-kept, shortish light brown hair, an angelic face, and a green jacket-uniform style with a medium-length skirt. She looked young, or at least youthful, and she had model-quality flawless skin. The other girl was dressed in a coat and long skirt, with a white button-up beneath it. She continued the blue aesthetic for girls, and in fact bore some resemblance to Sayaka. However, she was more soft, and less athletically toned and trained. She also bore a pair of glasses, that she pushed up against hazy blue eyes. And, beside them was a rather rotund boy. In fact, he was basically round, with little stubby legs that didn’t even look capable of supporting his bulk. He sported glasses too, and short black hair, slicked back. In a grey outfit and bulging white shirt, plus a little tie, he looked like a cartoon of a salaryman.

The brunette looked so small and cute, and the guy looked older, especially when he scrunched up his face like that. It was odd to think that they were all, probably, around the same age.

“I guess I can go first,” The blue girl in the middle said, putting her hand on her hip. “It won’t take long. I’m Tsumugi Shirogane, the Ultimate Cosplayer. I know, your reactions say it all. Compared to the others, I don’t have a very ‘useful’ talent, but I hope you’ll plainly bear with me.”

“You can join the growing ‘useless talent brigade’,” Nagito offered, prompting Hajime to elbow him in the side. “Just a joke! I’ve actually done some research too, just like Makoto over there was talking about earlier. About my fellow first-years at HPA. And your name totally came up, you’re something of a celebrity… in fact, both of you girls are! Aren’t you Chihiro Fujisaki, the Programming Angel?”

It was impressive how fast the girl, when addressed, tried to hide. She physically put Tsumugi’s taller, wider frame between herself and the strangers. Perhaps she stopped because she realized that, honestly, every single person here was nothing but strangers to each other. The girl she was hiding behind could have been a fiendish mastermind of evil or something.

Well, okay, probably not her. But somebody in the group might be, and who could really tell? If so many Ultimate students were taken so far from home, and had their memories altered in ways that should be impossible, then what was really off the table?

“Um. I suppose some people online have noticed me for my talents. Or just called me cute a lot, which is kinda troubling.”

“Well, it is one of the reasons you soared up in popularity so fast,” Nagito said. “Although of course, most of it is because of the stuff you’ve already done. I hear major companies are already competing just to get you to crash-test their security systems and find the weaknesses.”

“Um, my name is indeed Chihiro Fujisaki, and I’m called the Ultimate Programmer.”

The big guy had waited patiently long enough, and clearly wouldn’t any longer. Before Chihiro could even really explain more about herself, he was off to the races. “Ehe. And as for myself, I’m pleased to present Master Hifumi Yamada, the Ultimate Doujin Artist!”

Hajime blinked a few times. “Oh, I see.”

“It’s a legitimate form of artistic expression!” He snapped back, lightning-fast. As though he’d gotten this reaction before. “And, he he, also one that can be rather lucrative, if you know what you’re doing. Or you have the right inspirations to draw from.” He adjusted his glasses, smirking like he knew the secrets to the world, and glancing over towards the girls.

“I told you,” Tsumugi sighed, casting her gaze askance in an expression both thoughtful, and cold. “I’m not interested in any kind of ‘modelling’ offer. I know what that really means-”

“Eh?! Didn’t you hear what I said when we met, Mistress Shirogane?!”

“Um, I might have been spacing out a little bit. Or hoping you would go talk to somebody else…”

“Well then, I don’t mind saying it again, because it has to be said as many times as necessary. I am a pure soul in a world of flesh and corruption!” Hifumi declared, raising a fist high into the air as he basically yelled that.

“Y-You are?” Hajime said, holding up an arm in surprise.

“Yes! And what I mean by that specifically, is that all of you…. 3DPD ladies have nothing to fear. For my loyalty lies totally, and absolutely, within the realm of 2D women only!” Hifumi stopped to adjust his glasses again, and then reached back, into his backpack, to steady it, too. “And I… am a studious and steadfast lover.”

Tsumugi sighed, holding her arm tightly as she looked away. “Some people just can’t tell fiction from reality. It’s really sad…”

“So, as you can see,” Kaito said, laughing. “Even our seemingly timid members can really make some noise about the stuff they’re passionate for. Heck, just having an Ultimate talent proves you’ve got a heck of a lot of spirit!”

Makoto cursed his lack of ability to tell the time, but he felt like the conversation was going on and on, as bickering resumed.

Even the giant robot in the background was getting bored, and moving on, deeper into the island’s forested core. With no path except the one it carved out of the jungle foliage, palm trees, and tall grass, following it was a bad idea. Well, a worse idea than usual, to bother a giant robot.

Kaede tried to bring order back to the scene. “Guys, we’re on the right track already. We have somebody who can fix mechanical things. Heck, we have somebody amazing enough to just invent new ones, too. And somebody who can totally hack into all of the, like, terrorist mainframes and download the databases.”

Chihiro might have been timid, but she couldn’t let that one pass without a meek, barely-heard comment. Her voice was no louder than the ocean winds blasting cool breezes around them, and causing wild, vibrant colored hair and clothing to fly about. “That’s not exactly how it works, Miss Akamatsu…”

“And, we’ve got not just one Lucky student, but two, so our LUK stat has to be capped by now,” Tsumugi helpfully added.

“Um, that’s right! And, we’ve totally got a detective to unravel the mysteries of this island, uncover the true mastermind, and get us all out of here alive!”

“Is it really going to be as simple as all that?” Tsumugi wondered, putting a finger to her chin.

“Hey!” Miu was back to yelling, which at least got some heads turning her way. “Fuck me, not that any of you are man enough to even try it. Tch. This is why I always yell, because when I try to be nice or quiet, nobody fucking listens to a single word I say! I mean, I’m only literally a world-famous genius who invents new things from scratch! Like Kaediot said!”

“What about the world-class lab facility and team?” Kazuichi asked.

“That’s not the fucking point! What is the point, the point that you all seem to have completely let slip your tiny fucking monkey brains, is that we have somewhere to be. We’ve gotta get to that ‘central island’ before they start the orgy without us!”

“Was that part of the announcement that I missed?” Tsumugi asked from the position she was quickly gaining within the team, the peanut gallery.

“Tch. She’s right, though,” Kaito admitted. “The big robot understandably caught our attention, and then Kazuichi and Miu wanted to take it apart ‘for science’. And trust me, I’m all in for science. Even if I’m better at flying something, and leaving the maintenance and inventing to my sidekicks here.”

“You motherfu-”

Kaito ran right over Miu like he was already accustomed to it. “But if we don’t get over there, then whoever’s running this crazy show might send something, or somebody, to get us. Or we’ll just miss the party. Come on! We’ve already walked like, the length of this island, so we know the bridge out of here has to be back the way you all came.”

Shuichi sighed. “I knew we were going the wrong way.”

With twice as many people in tow as when they started out from the ruins of what appeared to be Hope’s Peak Academy, the group proceeded. Banter was lively. Some people kept out of it, though. Arguments were already starting back and forth, and Miu was swearing up another storm. At the back of the parade, Makoto started to fall out of step, and to his surprise, Sayaka was there, by his side.

She could really move around a crowd quickly when she wanted. And, come to think of it, she’d definitely stepped back and let the others talk with the new group. In fact, Sayaka had barely had a word to say about anything since they emerged into the bright sunlight of the outdoors.

“It’s great that we’ve found so many people willing to work together,” Sayaka said. “It really feels like we could get along with them.”

“... But?” Makoto prompted, with a wry smile.

“But let’s just say I’ve been in a lot of situations where strong personalities bump up against each other, and I’m sort of… tired of it. Back here seems a lot better, good thinking Makoto.”

Makoto realized that he was talking, sort-of one-on-one with a national pop sensation. And a beautiful girl to boot. He turned red, laughing loud and nervously in a way meant to mask his nervousness, but which really just broadcast it on a loudspeaker. “Yeah. I’m pretty great. huh?”

Sayaka nodded. “So far, I’d have to agree.” What? “So! When we start investigating this place more, and try to find a way out of here, I’d really like to come along and help you. It’s like what Kaito said, everyone needs a sidekick. Just think of me as your sidekick or assistant or whatever. If that’s okay.”

“... You’re kidding, right? _You_ , _my_ sidekick?” Makoto thought she had that a little backwards. His expression conveyed that far better than anything the deer in the headlights could actually say.

“Oh, I guess you’re right. I’m not likely to be much help, with my talent and everything…”

“N-No! That’s definitely not what I was thinking.”

“So, it’s a deal?”

Makoto knew right away that he wouldn’t be able to win against Sayaka. He had no choice but to admit his defeat. “Sure.” He had no clue why she of all people, would pick him of all people to want to team up with. But he couldn’t even think of saying no. Even if he didn’t remember those times back in middle school, he’d accept. But since he did… hmm.

Was it possible that she remembered him, too?

No way. Did Makoto remember every piece of bread he’d ever eaten? The time they knew each other as kids was so long ago. Honestly, they never were all that close at all. It was just in hindsight that those memories became precious, after Makoto became a fan of hers. There was no way.

Try as he might to tell himself that, it didn’t stick. Makoto Naegi was average in almost every respect. It was something he wasn’t too proud of. However, he did have one thing going for him. He was the eternal optimist.  
Maybe, just maybe.

He definitely had a bit more spring in his step, as the group finally got somewhere. They were rewarded with a bridge, that stretched forward, apparently right into the sea. Or rather, it went to the horizon.

The wooden bridge was wide, and built sturdy. It wasn’t derelict like the other signs of human civilization they found, and in fact looked freshly-built and painted. It was a good enough sign to keep them going. Spirits were fairly high across the large group, as they started speculation among themselves about what was really going on.

Shared hallucination was proposed by Shuichi, but he quickly dismissed his own idea. Human minds couldn’t link like that. Kaede liked it, though, and became a vigorous advocate for him even as he begged off. It would certainly explain why this world was refusing to make logical sense. Tsumugi’s theory that they were all in the Matrix amounted to the same thing. Whether the dream they were having was the result of the supernatural, psychology, aliens, or rogue machines really didn’t make a difference to the dreamers.

Made a pretty poor ending to stories, too. Although since this was the real world, Makoto conceded that wasn’t much of a defense against it.

Other theories on the Ultimates and their predicament got desperate, fast. Kazuichi went for what seemed obvious; the yakuza.

They _could_ have kidnapped many students from one of the most prestigious and important academies in the entire world. Without anybody noticing them do it. Or coming to find them afterwards. Even the mechanic himself didn’t seem too convinced, and Miu laughed in his face. People on the fringes of society might vanish like that sometimes, but Japan was a region-leading nation, a developed, modern country. It just didn’t track. Sayaka’s disappearance or kidnapping, alone, would spark a national emergency. And if they were in, or near, Japanese home waters, they would be found.

“Fact is, the world is shrinking thanks to technology,” Miu opined grandly, but then couldn’t help herself. “It’s like the opposite of what happened with Kaediot over there, with those big, fake titties! Ahaha!”

“Nnngh! Make up your mind! Am I flat, or not?!”

Tsumugi frowned. “That’s your problem?”

Makoto let out some energy by circling the rest of the group alongside Sayaka as they all walked. However, while the Ultimate Idol’s cardio was in very good shape, like everything about her physique, Makoto was nothing special. He quickly tired out and fell in with the rest of the pack, at the back of the group. He still didn’t feel much like any kind of leader to have a follower. The very idea was ridiculous. “I bet a satellite could find us, even if we get taken to some island that isn’t on any map.”

Nobody was ready to completely relax. Whatever the cause was, they were stuck in this weird situation. So many questions, so few answers, and the looming threat of the unknown.

However, Makoto was glad to see everyone at least willing to discuss it like it was some fictional event. Rather than staying tensely quiet or eyeing each other with suspicion. Their off-the-wall brainstorming session showed that they were getting a little more comfortable together as a group.

They finally spotted an island ahead of them, and other bridges to the left and right on the horizon, converging there too. Sayaka twirled about, sending her blue hair flying, as she looked behind them. “We must have been walking for quite some time, I can’t see our island anymore.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, suddenly pensive. “Mmh, I suppose it’s no more ‘our’ island than this one will be, right?”

“Right! I for one won’t be satisfied until we get back to our real islands, the ones with all the people on them. Our families, our homes.” Kaede balled her fists as she boldly declared this, and everyone nodded in agreement. From the way they all acted, there wasn’t one person there who didn’t have something, or somebody, waiting for them back home. “And the real Hope’s Peak.”

“Right on,” Kaito agreed, giving a fistpump of support. “That’s the spirit!”

It was a relief to arrive at what must have been the central island. Makoto could see other bridges leading in from the distance, breaking up the calm ocean waves. In fact, he could see people moving on those bridges, heading the same way they were. Knowing there were more people on the islands wasn’t much of a shock. Like the fact that there were multiple islands, it was obvious from the simple fact that there was a wide-scale announcement.

Seeing more people, though, made Makoto privately worry. The people they’d met were goofballs, but what if some of the others he’d read about online showed up? The ones rumored to be dangerous? “Come on, the message said to go to the park. I’m guessing that’s in the middle of the island.” Fortunately, what looked like the hub wasn’t all that large, compared to the place they’d left behind.

Soon, they made it to the park. It was difficult to miss, considering it was a flat square of white stone, peppered with benches and tables that were already filling up with what must have been dozens of other people, all centered around a massive marble statue.

A statue of a gopher.

Okay, sure. Why not.

There were a lot of people gathered, and not one resembled an ordinary person; their outfits, clothes, hair, the way many were acting. There was little doubt, this was a gathering of Ultimates. Some, or all, of these people were their fellow students at the Academy. It was tough to make out details, though, because they were stopped short of entering the park by an identical pair of people.

The only exception was that one was ponderously fat, and the other was thin. In every other respect, down to their white school uniform jackets and pants, glasses, and even hairstyle, the two were exactly the same. Their mannerisms and voices were identical as well, presenting the outward impression that they were in fact, the same person.

Okay, sure. Why not.

“I can handle these,” The portly version said to his skinny counterpart, giving a calculating and dour glance towards Makoto and the others. “Go ahead and meet that group coming from the third island.”

“Agreed,” The other him nodded, replying in the same voice as the one that had just given him his instructions. He went off as directed without a fuss.

The big guy didn’t even bother to watch his… friend? Brother? Twin? Go. He was looking down at a notepad, on which was already scribbled some neatly-written lines. The man wrote like a printer. “Now, to start off. Names and Ultimate talents?”

Kaede puffed up at this, and pushed to the front of the group, putting her hands on her hips. “Excuse me. First off, who are _you_?” Her manner of speech was a bit rude, but only as rude as the brisk way somebody had just addressed her friends.

Not that the boy in white noticed. He scarcely glanced up from his notes. “What? You don’t know?”

Makoto raised his hand, sweating a bit as he used the other one to scratch at his face, indulging in a personal tic. His green eyes cast to and fro. There was little doubt. This man, and the other, matched a certain description he’d read a dozen times. “Um, I think I might have a clue. You’re Byakuya Togami, right? The Ultimate Affluent Progeny.”

“Ultimate… what?” Kaede asked, incredulous.

“He must be the heir to the Togami Group, then,” Nagito surmised. He said his research wasn’t quite as extensive as Makoto’s prep-work, but that could have just been him downplaying himself again. Makoto observed with some concern that it was the white-haired boy’s favorite pastime. “Whoa. A super-rich guy who played the stock market, and made millions back on a thousands-yen investment, just for fun. In his spare time.”

“If that’s the case, then who’s the other guy? He looks and talks exactly like you. Your twin or something?” Hajime asked.

Byakuya tapped his chins. “Ah, him. No, I’m an only child, and we’ve never met before waking up here. I’ve decided provisionally that he’s my evil clone.”

Moments of awkward silence passed. Tsumugi finally asked, “Then why do you work together?”

“Even a grimy reflection of myself is still going to be far more help than most people. Particularly that loudmouthed hall monitor over there, Ishimaru. Ultimate Moral Compass, supposedly the leader. Trying to keep ‘order’ by just shouting and hoping perhaps to win via mental attrition.” With a careless jerk of his chins, the large man indicated a black-haired boy near the large group of students. He was running back and forth, causing the assembly of impressive medals on his pure snow-white school uniform to jingle and clatter. His bright red eyes burned with passion, and his voice could be easily heard from out on the edge of the small island.

He sure seemed… driven. Like he was afraid that if he stopped talking, somebody was going to kill somebody else in the space of a few minutes. Then again, considering the look of a few of those Ultimate students, especially the stand-offish types milling around outside of the crowd, was that such an unreasonable thought to have?

The scene didn’t resemble order. It was much closer to the textbook picture of chaos.

“Now that you all have me at a disadvantage, you can at least fix that.”

As though introducing yourself before barking orders was a luxury they should all be grateful for? Makoto suppressed the urge to sigh or say something rude. It could just make this weird interrogation take longer. Instead, he ran down each Ultimate, and what their deal was. He saved Hajime for last. He just had a feeling that Byakuya wasn’t going to be quite as understanding about the amnesia.

Sure enough, Hajime got a look of pure skepticism. “Your memory loss extends that far, too? This makes the fourth instance of somebody claiming not to remember their Ultimate talent. Stranger and stranger.”

Hajime could only shrug, tensing up and looking away. “I didn’t know others were like this, too. Honestly, I’m just as curious as everyone else. I wish I could tell you more.”

Byakuya shook his head. “There’s no way to establish if you’re lying, or if you’re not. Just like with the others. So there’s no point dwelling on it. Now, do you all know anything about what happened to bring us here? Any ideas about the group that must be organizing this… farce?” There was another silence, and he shook his head. “Well, nobody else had anything of substance, either. Even the ones who pretended to know, like that blonde bratty kid running around underfoot somewhere… there, in the bright orange kimono. Ultimate Traditional Dancer, feh. Watch out for that one, like as not to be a dangerous element…”

Of all the Ultimates that Byakuya could have spoken about like that, a little girl playing in the grass and smiling happily to other people wasn’t Makoto's top pick. How about that all too distinctive pompadour of the famous Ultimate Gang Leader over there?

Well, he didn’t know anybody yet, at least on a personal level. Maybe he just had to reserve judgement.

Was that a… magnifying glass the dancer had? Maybe Shuichi could borrow that to help him be a detective.

That was how it worked, right?

“We’re all stuck here, we don’t know how to get out, and our memories have clearly been tampered with. For now, all we can do is listen to what that voice told us to do, and maybe we might get some answers. Just go have a seat on one of the benches or something.”

“It definitely sounds like you’re leading things here, Byakuya,” Nagito said. “Have you been recording everybody’s information?”

“Of course,” Byakuya said to both questions at once. “I’ve got to stay on top of this absurd situation, or who knows what might happen.”

“Do you really think we’re in danger?” Makoto asked, looking again over his rather wide shoulder, towards the park. The students arrayed there were indeed outlandish, dressed in bright colors and themed clothing no doubt suited to match their talents. Or, in the case of one dark-skinned girl, a simple white bikini underneath a yellow open hoodie. Which, while not much of any kind of uniform, did actually make her a lot better equipped for their current situation than anyone else was. Kaede, or the girl with purple hair and a big cat-ears hoodie, might regret those clothing choices.

“There’s no way to say if we’re in real trouble until the meeting. Or whatever this is... Ah, there’s more coming. Well, for what it’s worth, welcome to Gopher Island, you lot. Now move along. It’s all you skinny types are good for, anyway.”

More silence after Byakuya left them to deal with another small arriving group of confused students. Makoto scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Did we just get not-fat-shamed?”

“What a fucking jerk,” Miu rumbled. “No reason to be acting like that to us, we just met.”

Tsumugi and Kaede shared a moment, but they both decided to pass on the bait.

Meanwhile, Shuichi fiddled with the brim of his black hat, perhaps trying to block out the crowd of people with it. “Although he was rude about it, Byakuya did just give us a lot to think about. It seemed like he went out of his way to tell us a few things.”

It was like a circus troupe had set up camp in the central park area. Some of the clothing choices were a little more subdued, but there was such a huge, colorful, vibrant cast of characters parading about. Makoto felt overwhelmed just looking at them. He noticed that the others felt the same; the six who had woken up inside of the ruined academy were sticking together like a unit, despite knowing each other for all of maybe thirty minutes. Makoto would have been able to tell the time much better if their kidnappers had deigned to leave him his phone. Maybe it was hours instead.

An empty feeling in his stomach told him that, bare minimum, he hadn’t eaten in a while. Hopefully the kidnappers had box lunches prepared for everyone. Like this was some kind of demented field trip. Actually, considering they went to the incredible trouble and expense of taking everybody to this deserted island, they were, in fact, almost certain to feed the Ultimates and keep them alive. If the mob wanted somebody gone, abandoning them in a beautiful tropical location to starve was probably low on the list of tactics.

He also noticed that the other students were following this pattern of group-building, too. With the exception of a a boy in white with a stylish checkerboard-pattern scarf, who was chasing down a larger, but clearly more terrified white-haired boy in some form of metal battle armor-

Okay, sure-

Most people were sitting together in small groups of two to six. Kaito’s group wandered off to another bench, leaving just the six who started together. Eyes swept over the newcomers in return for their curious gazes. Compared to everyone else, only Sayaka and Kaede really warranted another look. Everyone else looked, and felt, like extras in a movie compared to the stars parading about. The musician girls might try to deny the attention, but they got it anyway. That was the funny thing about being a celebrity, it seemed.

“I don’t mind fan appreciation events, but not when I’m busy being kidnapped,” Sayaka said.

“I know, right?” Tsumugi agreed from the next bench over.

Another musical tone sounded through the park. It was just like the one that went over the PA system earlier. The assembled people stopped whatever they were doing, instantly. They turned to look towards the statue itself, the source of the noise.

_Ding dong, bing bong._

Makoto fidgeted in anticipation, which quickly became anxiety. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but whatever was going to happen was bound to be… sinister. Like they really were about to be faced with the person who brought them here. He found himself standing beside Sayaka. He wanted to say something reassuring, to sound like Kaito and Kaede did when they spoke up. But they had no time.

It was time to learn the truth of their bizarre situation.

_Pop!_

A cute, fluffy, white stuffed rabbit mascot emerged from the ground near the statue, floating and flailing about in the air for a second. As she(it?) did, pink light glowed from it. The creature waved a staff whose end was shaped just like a heart. It wore some frilly tutu clothing on the mascot’s short, thick, stubby body. It was like somebody made a stuffed animal into a magical girl.

“Ta-da! Good morning, everybody! I’m ~Magical Miracle Girl Usami~, and I am your professor for this heart-pounding semester of love!”


	3. 0-3. Welcome to Hope Island III (Hajime)

An awkward silence settled over the forty-eight Ultimate college students.

Each one of them were newly-accepted members of an elite institution. They were gifted with preternatural abilities. They had a diversity of personalities and perspectives. Even just the ones Hajime had met personally were a raucous bunch. And, very odd. And very not-quiet.

Yet there they were, all struck dumb. A thunderbolt directly from God could not have done as good of a job shutting everyone up. Stunned order had been brought, in an instant, to the circus.

Nearly everyone stood up and strained to get a better view. The creature’s size, no bigger than any normal stuffed plush animal, required it. They were hanging off each of its absurd, sugary-sweet words.

Nobody could so much as speak at first.

Aside from the little white rabbit, which was moving and talking well on her own. The cute wings on her back fluttered as she spoke.

“You may call me ‘Professor Usami’, or just ‘Professor’. The Academy has tasked me with watching over all of you, keeping you safe, and guiding your development into true Ultimates. Our goal here on Gopher Island is nothing more, and nothing less, than to nurture hope and develop our talents, in this peaceful paradise.

That’s why you’ve been brought here for this school trip. And I have been given the responsibility for guiding all of your special coursework. Once we complete this lofty assignment and you have proven the bonds of your fellowship with the Hope Fragments, our task here will be complete.”

A boy in a striped blue-black shirt, who bore a striking resemblance to Komaeda in build and face, broke the silence from the crowd. Among all, he alone could raise his hand. Hajime spotted rings on several of his fingers. The lanky man twirled his messy avocado-green hair as he spoke. “Excuse me, Professor. I have a question right away.”

“Please, Mister Rantaro Amami, ask away!” The rabbit’s button-eyes were closed in contentment with her own turn of phrase. She patted her belly with her free hand. The one not holding that glowing Magical Stick.

“Why have we been stranded here? Why are we cut off from the outside world? And what happened to our memories? Why can’t some of us, like myself, even remember our Ultimate talents?”

Hearing that struck a chord in Hajime, who added, “Yeah. I’m the same way.”

A black-haired girl with long twintails and a bright, ruby-red uniform, and eyes of a similar shade said, “I’ve also had that memory taken from me.”

And lastly, a purple-haired girl in a darker purple coat, wearing gloves and boots, stepped forward quietly. “The same is true for me.” She had been lingering on the outskirts of the gathering, but now moved near the front of the crowd, standing beside the other amnesiacs, save for Hajime.

Shuichi took a particular interest in this, leaning forward in his seat, hand over his mouth as he watched. He had barely said a word since they ended up surrounded by people, and looked visibly uncomfortable with it all. However, now, Hajime could see something in those deep, thoughtful eyes turn over and over, like he was running multiple passes on a mental computer.

He murmured, “So, these are the four who can’t remember their Ultimate abilities… Hajime Hinata, Rantaro Amami, Maki Harukawa, and Kyouko Kirigiri...”

“If you’re looking for common elements,” Komaeda said in a stage whisper, clearly designed to be loud enough for Hajime to pick it up, which he did, “It’s probably the fact that they’re all pretty shady. Hey, Hajime, what’s that look for? You’re scaring me...”

“T-Those are all excellent and natural questions, Mister Amami!” Usami proclaimed grandly. “Although when you put it that way, it makes the situation sound a little sinister. I assure you, there’s no danger at all on this island! That’s been all taken care of, so all you need to do is forget your worries and collect Hope Fragments. Everything that has transpired is according to HPA protocol that was handed down to me by my superiors. And the memory loss is a mystery even I’m not sure about, but I’m working hard to figure it out!”

“You’ve mentioned Hope Fragments twice, but what are they?” The skinny version of Byakuya Togami asked from the head of the crowd of Ultimates. “Is there some kind of resource on this island that Hope’s Peak wishes for us to gather?”

Usami shook her little head as much as her body’s range of motion allowed, which wasn’t much. “It’s a valuable resource, but not in that way. The Hope Fragments are a sign of our bonds with each other, and the power of your friendship and hope.”

“Ah, so they don’t actually mean anything at all. Thank you for the clarification,” Byakuya nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a smug grin.

“Eh?! But they are the entire point of our school trip to the Gopher Islands, Mister Togami! One of my primary roles is to apportion Hope Fragments to you as your bonds with each other grow stronger. Once everybody has gathered all the Hope Fragments, then your introductory semester will be complete, and we can all go to our new home.”

“Our new home, huh?” Kaito asked. “Hope’s Peak Academy, right? For real? So after our mission here is over, we can leave?”

Usami nodded. “That is correct, Mister Momota! Think of this as something akin to an… entrance exam, although you’re unlikely to fail these trials. I know that every single person here as the potential within themselves to make friends, and form bonds with your fellow Ultimates.”

Some of the gathered Ultimates looked friendly, but others did not. Especially the three amnesiacs gathered at the front. They were still glaring daggers at Usami, perhaps expecting more answers than ‘none at all’ about their memory.

However, hearing that this was, in some way, the will of HPA and its administrators, rather than some weird terrorist group, made a lot of people in the crowd let out breaths they didn’t realize they’d been holding. Hajime had to admit, if there was one organization that had the resources, scope, and social power to pull off a stunt like this. And one that was wacky and off-the-wall enough to actually do it?

Hope’s Peak was high on the list.

They were known for special and odd projects, the media often covered it. Even an average guy knew about the stuff they were pulling. Compared to some of the stories, was a tropical vacation really absurd?

“And now! To facilitate our mission, I have a present for each and every one of you!” Usami raised her magical stick as high as she could. Which wasn’t very. She waved it back and forth, and began to generate a burst of pink magic in the air, in defiance of all logic, reality, and common sense.

All while chanting. “Bibbity, bobbity! Hocus, pocus! Hope moves... forward!”

In a burst of light, all forty-eight Ultimates were suddenly holding tablet computer devices.

They were thin, sleek, modern pads, with most of the front half being taken up by a screen. It showed a loading progress bar, which soon filled, to be replaced by a menu of options. The cover itself, and the hard plastic back, were painted white. They sported an artistic rendering of Usami herself, as well as the distinctive building profile of Hope’s Peak, and the emblem.

The symbols of HPA, which dominated the destinies of everyone.

Shuichi tried in vain to figure out just what trick or illusion had been used on them all. “But how? My hand was just empty…” He must have been really fun at magic shows.

“I give to you all, the Hope Pads! Please, take good care of them. These pads are your most key item. Literally! Each one has been customized for its user. It will function as an ID card for you when necessary. The cover can be slid over, and the whole device folds up when not in use. You can store it in your pocket whenever you like. Wow!

And it’s weatherproof, so tropical storms can’t do a thing to them! Ah, not that this island has had a storm in over a hundred years. Anyway, I will use these Hope Pads to monitor your progress on gathering the Hope Fragments. Isn’t it thematically appropriate?”

Everyone naturally started touching the pads, and messing with the controls, exploring the options presented to them on the menu.

“I’m glad you all approve of them, ehe. There’s also a copy of the rules for this class trip that will be enforced, although it’s all quite basic, and common-sense things.

The first, and most important rule: ‘Extreme violence is prohibited on this island. Please live peaceful and relaxing lives with your fellow students.’.

Second: ‘Be considerate of each other and work together to obtain Hope Fragments.’.

Third: ‘Littering is not allowed. Let us coexist with this island's bountiful nature in mutual prosperity.’.

And fourth, but not least: ‘The lead teacher cannot directly interfere with the students. An exception to this rule is made if any student violates a rule.’.”

“That’s all of the rules?” Rantaro asked skeptically.

“That’s all. Nice, simple, and direct.” Usami nodded emphatically this time.

“And what happens if somebody does try to commit an act of violence, for instance? Like, if I were to decide to take out my evil clone,” Byakuya asked. Actually, both of them asked surprisingly similar things, at the same moment, and then stopped, before starting up. Again, in the same moment, so that their two voices made the same query. Both wealthy scions eyed each other up from across the crowds.

“W-Well! I’m absolutely certain such a thing won’t occur among the Ultimates, Mister Togami... s. But were an incident to break out, I would… handle it! With my Magic Stick! You’ve already seen its prowess.

Now, as you all have no doubt noticed, all of the bridges save for one have been retracted for the time being.” That brought Hajime’s head up, and as he looked around, he saw that Usami was right. Somehow, machinery had pulled the bridges up from their connection with Center Island, like massive drawbridges.

“Areas which were previously accessible have been blocked off for now, but the First Island remains available to you. That is where I have prepared housing accommodations for everyone.”

“Oh? What’s this?” A girl who looked white as a sheet, the product of tons of makeup, asked. Her black hair was fashioned and styled into huge drills, which swayed to and fro with the movements of her head. She wore an old-style outfit, with black skirt and vest. Her red eyes struck the same sort of color palette as Maki, contrasting their bright, burning color with the pale skin and black hair. “Class 1 Version?”

“Aha. That’s another good observation, from Miss Celestia Ludenberg. We have quite a bit more students than I was initially expecting on his trip. So we’ve divided you up into three classes. Class 1, Class 2, and Class 53.”

“Why fifty-three?” Kyouko asked, arms crossed tightly.

"Thank you for being patient with me, everyone. But here is our first goal. A simple mission! We’re going to proceed to First Island, and explore the living spaces that I’ve provided for you. Each hotel complex on your map is assigned to one of the three classes, and accommodates sixteen people in lovely resort bungalows. With amenities and supplies provided by the Academy, free of charge.”

Claiming credit for free housing and food, when everybody was brought there against their will, was pretty bold. Hajime was actually impressed. The situation still bothered him deeply, though.

The others looked relieved. While they may have had reservations, the fact that this operation was being conducted under the aegis of Hope’s Peak Academy relieved the general knife-edge tension.

The real finishing blow to suspicions came last, though. “Oh, and of course, meals have already been prepared, and await you, in the dining halls. I know it’s been a while, so we’ve provided that much. Although you are also free, and encouraged, to use the kitchens, on your own initiative, going forward. After all, we’re going to be here a while.

I’ll give you all a minute to sort things out, and go on ahead to First Island! You’ll find a copy of me in front of each hotel complex! Usami, away!”

And just like that, the stuffed rabbit was gone in a burst of light and hearts.

Witnessing impossible things put a strain on the mind, and Hajime just felt tired. The hunger added to that, of course.

Some students headed immediately towards the only route available to them, the bridge to First Island. Others loitered. A lot of the loners and people who hadn’t formed groups went ahead, while groups tended to stay behind, and at arm’s length from each other.

Of course, Kaede’s and Kaito’s groups assembled again, beneath the shadow of the massive marble Gopher. Still messing with their newly-gained Hope Pads. Everyone pulled up their class assignments, as well.

Kaito said, “It looks like we’re being split up every which way. Hey, Kaede, Shuichi, Tsumugi, Miu, you’re all with me in class… 53, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s weird. Why 53? Aren’t the other ones 1 and 2? Usami never gave us an answer.” Kaede asked, double-checking with her own pad, and confirming it. “Oh hey, we get a roster of everyone in our class. But not the others?”

“This must be like the islands that are now blocked off,” Shuichi speculated. “Professor Usami is dividing up what each of us can figure out on our own. Presumably, to encourage cooperation.”

Kaede nodded. “You’re right, Shuichi! There’s no doubt. See? You should be a little more confident in yourself.”

“Miss Aka-” Kaede glared at him, and he blushed. “Kaede, anybody could have pointed that out. I was really just thinking out loud…” He continued to withdraw, and tried to fade into the background of the group as they fiddled with their Hope Pads and checked out who was going where.

Beside Hajime, Chihiro flipped through the limited selection of apps on her Hope Pad. She was clearly focused on something. Her green eyes were intent, glowed faintly. When she was looking at a screen, and her face was illuminated by it more than the sun, thanks to the shadow from the statue, she looked like an entirely different person.

He couldn’t help leaning over curiously to see what the Ultimate Programmer made of this new device. While Chihiro’s rosy cheeks got considerably more rosy when she noticed, she didn’t recoil from him like a shrinking violet. Instead, she just remarked sheepishly, “I’ve got to try the most obvious thing first.”

“Yeah?” Hajime wasn’t the only one watching the angel at work now, either.

“If I can get a field that lets me enter text, then I could try something. A search bar, a text messenger, anything like that. The more complicated something is, the easier it can be broken. Especially if you use brute force. So, I’m going to try code injection.”

“Code injection? That sounds cool,” Sayaka clapped in delight, taking note of Chihiro and her efforts. “I knew you’d be able to crack this thing open in no time, Chihiro!”

“Um, well, um. I don’t know about that, Miss Maizono. My plan is actually really silly, and unlikely to work. The simplest method of doing code injection is by making something that handles text do so incorrectly. So the computer thinks it’s reading code when it shouldn’t be. Like if you typed something into, say, Google, that made it run a program.”

Hajime was a little blown away by the idea. Just like Chihiro said, it was so… simple. “And that works?”

“No,” Chihiro said. “Well, yes, in theory, anybody could do it anywhere. In practice, every programmer knows to guard against that. By telling the computer to treat any incoming text from user input fields as just text. Always. ‘Code like you’re being attacked’, in other words.”

“But maybe they didn’t think about such a simple attack,” Komaeda nodded, finishing her thought for her, and rubbing his chin. “And if they aren’t ready for it, even the smallest crack could potentially get us in to their whole system. Impressive.”

Kaito gave her two huge thumbs-up. “That’s just what I’d expect from a member of my crew! Usami might be on the level, or she might not be. But we’re gonna find out on our own, and re-establish contact with the outside world!”

Chihiro actually seemed like confidence was draining from her as the group gathered around, heaping praise and encouragement onto her like heavy stones. Just like Shuichi, Hajime suspected she really was every bit as brilliant as her Ultimate title suggested, she just didn’t handle the pressure well.

At all.

Was it ever cute, though.

“Well, that’s all moot if I can’t get anywhere to enter text,” Chihiro said, with a sigh. “I’m really sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to sound like I was going to crack this entire system just like that…” With her head bowed, she actually looked close to the verge of tears. “Everyone’s trying their hardest, and I’m doing stuff any high school dropout could think of…”

“Don’t say that,” Kaito shook his head. “Look, even if this doesn’t work out, we’ve still got a huge advantage! And it’s because you’re here, Chihiro!”

"That’s right,” Naegi agreed. “It’s not like we expect you to find something that isn’t there in the first place.”

“Exactly,” Kazuichi nodded sagely. “Heck, you’ve inspired me to try something, too, hang on…”

Hajime wondered if _that_ was something Chihiro did on purpose. Komaeda did mention that she got really popular online in a short space of time. Or was he being too suspicious? It very would could have just been an inevitable effect of her whole wounded-bunny thing she had going on.

Thinking of rabbits inevitably brought Hajime back to thinking of their supposed ‘professor’, Usami. “This is all a lot of effort to go to, if Hope’s Peak just wants us to ‘be friends’.” It was the opposite of Chihiro’s efforts. Instead of trying something basic to solve a complicated issue, it was like swatting a fly with a nuclear bomb. Which probably just meant that the Hope Fragments could be a cover story of some kind, and covering up HPA’s real purpose in setting this thing in motion.

Again, he reminded himself, if that was even true. Their phones were gone, their connections to the outside all severed, and with no means of escape on their own. No way to verify what Usami was actually saying.

Maybe a dash of paranoia was just what they needed to figure out the truth.

“She did seem really Care Bears about it,” Miu agreed, not looking much different from her usual, in the shade or the sun. If Chihiro was on one end of the pure-cute-angel scale, Miu had to be on the exact opposite end. Not that Hajime thought that was a downgrade. If anything, it just meant that he had no clue where to put his eyes.

Lots of dangerous areas.

Miu grumbled as she poked at the touchscreen of her own pad. “This whole thing is such bullshit. Love and friendship and peace and hope, huh? I always heard that Hope’s Peak was a den of competition and elite fucking fuckwads, trying to see who can fuck the hardest to get to the top of the pile.”

Hajime couldn’t disagree with some of those words. Her impressions of the Academy matched up with his own.

“Hey, everyone. At least she’s not an actual bear. Then we’d be in real trouble,” Tsumugi said, walking back up to the group after having vanished for a bit. It was probably telling that nobody even noted her absence. Her remark was a reference to something that nobody got, anyway, so Hajime paid it, and her, little mind. “Anyone? No? Aw, alright. I do plainly have some good news, though.”

“Yeah? What’s up? Oh, hey here.” Kaito’s face brightened up, and it wasn’t too difficult to figure out why. Tsumugi hadn’t returned alone; she had two more girls in tow, who moved ahead of her and into view.

They were gorgeous.

A pair of tall beauties, one of whom had neatly-kept, medium-length black hair over a pale face with freckles, and cold, clear blue eyes. The other girl had big, light pink hair styled into poofy twintails. One was stoic, the other was expressive. Not just in mannerisms, but appearance too. And in the amount of skin they were willing to show. The fashionable girl up front had an extremely recognizable face, too. What with her having been on about half of all the magazines published in Japan last year.

Every single person in the group knew who this girl was without any need at all for introductions.

Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista.

She was easily half leg, and the shorter cut of her pink skirt emphasized that.

Among other things that her outfit heavily emphasized, if not just blatantly showcased. What was it with pink-haired girls and being gifted? Was this a trend? Hajime tried to remember if anyone else had that hair color among the Ultimates who were trickling away to First Island as they spoke. Kaede had the pink sweater, and fit the trend, too.

“Yo,” Junko said, waving casually. “I’ll cut straight to the point. Moogs here said that you guys weren’t buying this whole Usami thing, and you’re going to try and investigate more. She was looking for anyone who could help. That right?”

“Moogs?” Tsumugi echoed from behind her, frowning. “But um, yes.”

“Well, we’re certainly not just going to just swallow that story about Hope Fragments without checking for ourselves,” Kaito replied. “Just to be safe. Do you feel the same way?”

"Totally,” Junko confirmed, nodding as she reached up to adjust the red and white bow on one side of her hair. Although everyone at least recognized her, she still felt the need to say for the record, “I’m Junko Enoshima, by the way. Nice to meet you guys. And this is my extra-cute sister, Mukuro Ikusaba.”

Mukuro, when named, nodded silently to the others. She wasn’t a celebrity, and when Hajime compared her look to Junko’s, he saw somebody way more likely to be down to earth. She wore simpler colors, a less elaborate outfit, but still had a beauty of form and motion. When she moved, it was briefly, and otherwise, she stood still like a statue. “We’d like to join forces.”

“I plainly figured you might want their help. Oh, and I already gave her the short version of everyone’s introductions, I hope that’s okay,” Tsumugi said. She tried in vain to get noticed from around Junko. That was a pretty impossible task.

While Tsumugi was far from the Plain Jane she claimed to be in terms of looks, when it came to personality, there wasn’t even a fight. Just as Sayaka quietly gave off the impression that any room she went into was hers, Junko had that same vibe about her. The celebrity thing. Well, it was more intense; Sayaka was ‘just’ a national pop sensation who insisted to everyone she met to just call her ‘Sayaka’ and treat her like normal.

Junko seemed to be projecting it. It wasn’t the sort of thing Hajime could put into words, but the way she carried herself, her words, tone of voice. Simultaneously, she was completely grave, serious, and direct, while also aloof and bored with the world, and making that very clear. Something like a person having run out of fucks a long time ago to give, so every move they made, and every word they said, was unvarnished. It was an oddly honest feeling for a fashion model to give off.

Completely unlike what he’d expected. Well, he never really _expected_ to meet Junko Enoshima, face to face. But he’d thought that she might have some kind of high-pitched voice, and talk about fashion a lot, and… not to cut right to things, immediately.

He got another shock, though.

“Well, Mukuro is the Ultimate Soldier. So if this is all some kind of terrorist plot or whatever, my little sister can get us out of here.”

Mukuro accomplished the difficult feat of getting everyone to look at her, instead of Junko, in astonishment. It was clear that neither Makoto, nor Nagito, had come across the Ultimate Soldier in their research. They were just as blown away as the others. Junko dropped such a massive bomb so casually, like she was bored by the fact that her little sister wasn’t just a soldier, but good enough to be called the Ultimate.

Like if somebody was revealed to be the Ultimate Killing Machine, right before Hajime’s eyes. Suddenly, Mukuro’s calm, even stare made him shiver, in the shade of the statue. Especially when she turned her gaze to him, and he flinched reflectively.

Things got quiet.

“I’m sorry, sis. Did you want to make your own big introduction?”

Mukuro shook her head. “You’re much better at talking to others. They look concerned.”

“Oh, right. I forgot, when we tell people about you, they get a liiiiittle intimidated. Look, guys. I know my sister is a real badass. And believe me, she’ll be able to handle anything we come across, up to, and including, killer robot attacks. Even if they took all her weapons, Mukuro is like, a weapon. But trust me. Total softie beneath the shell. Look at her, she’s actually super shy.”

Everyone was sure looking. There was nowhere else to look in that moment. Hajime didn’t see anything indicating the slightest hint of weakness.

Those freckles on her face weren’t covered in red from a blush or anything. Her ghostly-pale skin showed no sign of heating up, even though she wore a vest over a button-up. She did have a skirt like Junko, although hers was more of a tan combat-skirt design, he supposed. Or was it that every aspect of her appearance was morphing to fit what he now knew about her?

“It’s not like we’re afraid,” Kaede lied. “It would be silly to be afraid of somebody just because of their Ultimate talent. Right, guys?” The reaction was silence. “Look, they came to us to work together, and I’ll take anybody’s help now. We’re all Ultimates, and both Junko and Mukuro could be super helpful to our case. Kaito, what do you think?”

The other leader of this growing group didn’t even have to think about it. “Hell yeah. If you two are in, then you’re good in my book! Add them to the crew roster, Hifumi!”

Tsumugi adjusted her glasses. “You’re keeping an actual paper roster?”

“Of course, I have paper on me at all times, in case I should get in one of my… Strange Moods,” Hifumi confirmed, with an eyebrow wiggle at the end for no identifiable reason. The rotund artist produced a little notebook, scribbling down two new names and titles.

Kaito grinned wide. “Shuichi can find out if this whole thing is on the level, and if it’s not, then Mukuro here can get us out! Or at least, make Usami, and whoever’s controlling that stuffed rabbit, let us go home.”

"Right! It’s agreed, Junko!” Kaede said, holding out her hand. Junko regarded it for a moment, having to pan her head down to make up the height difference. She matched Kaito’s smile with her own, which covered a lot of her face and showed a set of perfect white teeth. She took Kaede’s hand, and shook.

“Awesome. Everyone else is really confused about what to do, or just letting their guard down. But you guys know what’s up. So, where are we gonna hold our little strategy meeting later?”

“Oh, right. Good point. We’ll come right back here, on Center Island in the park,” Kaito replied, slamming his fists together. “After lunch or whatever, of course. We’re gonna follow Chihiro’s methodology, and try something simple. Maybe Usami is monitoring the other islands. In fact, if she’s enforcing any kind of rules, she’d have to be monitoring things. We saw cameras and stuff on stands on Second Island. But none here. So if that’s a gap in the surveillance, then it’s the best place for our meeting!”

“Didn’t Chihiro’s plan not get us anywhere?” Tsumugi asked.

“... I’m sorry, everyone…” There were sniffles. Nice work, Tsumugi; that wasn’t the point.

“Whoa!”

Kazuichi started swearing up a Miu Storm, cutting any further Chihiro sadness short as she looked at him in surprise. The Ultimate Mechanic had clearly not been paying any attention during the sisters’ introduction, or he’d have at least had something to say about Junko, like most guys would. Especially forward guys.

And possibly regretted it, when he learned that her ‘little sister’ was the Ultimate Soldier. A shadow, following in loyal step beside Junko’s blinding light, it looked like.

No, Kazuichi was busy fiddling with his Hope Pad the whole time. After his exclamation, he dropped on the ground like it was a hot potato. It hit the weathered white cobblestones, hard. Instead of shattering, as Hajime expected from the sleek, thin white tablet, it bounced silently. The Hope Pad twirled on a corner, then finally exhausted its momentum, landing screen-up.

Still working.

“Alright, so! Pretty tamper-proof. Bastard gave me a freaking shock when I tried to get the cover off. And it’s durable too, considering it handled that without even, like, any scratches I can see.” The Ultimate Mechanic shrugged helplessly, and put his screwdriver back into his toolbelt. “Yeah, sorry guys. Without some good gloves, at the very least, I’m not going to try that again and see if it was the warning shot.”

If their experts in software and hardware weren’t going to be getting into those Hope Pads anytime soon, the other Ultimates didn’t have much hope of figuring them out.

“Well, as if we needed evidence that things weren’t as safe as that rabbit told us, here we are,” Kaito said. “Bastards are just messing around, like we’re guinea pigs. But if they want us to run their little maze or whatever, show them what we’ve got? Prove ourselves? We’ll show them what Ultimates can do!”

“Just as soon as we figure out what to dooooo!” Hifumi agreed, raising his fist again. Between that spike of gelled black hair, and his hand, he was pointing up at the clear blue sky twice-over. “Then we’ll do it! Yeah! Do the impossible! See the invisible! Row, row, fight the power!”

“I’ve done so many sets from that,” Tsumugi reflected, although it was tough to tell if she had a wistful look in her eye, or one of exasperation.

Komaeda approached Hajime from the side, showing the quiet, serious ahoge-wielding boy his own student profile. A big picture of Hajime’s winning smile, not forced at all, looked back up at him. That was a mugshot he remembered clearly. He was so nervous getting it taken for his Hope’s Peak student ID card, which was yet another thing in his wallet that was taken. The datapad profile had a lot of things he’d disclosed for the Academy in his application; height, weight, measurements, they had it all. Save for his talent. It was just a set of question marks.

International man of mystery, Hajime Hinata. Great.

“You look way more tense than most of the others, Hajime. Are you like Junko? Still don’t trust this whole thing?”

“Of course not! And neither should you, Nagito. There’s still a lot of gaps in that Usami’s story. Like the gaps in our memory, first and foremost. We’ve all been affected, and it should be the first thing she talks about, but she just says ‘it’ll be okay’.”

Trying to pull it up from his own memory for the hundredth time got him nothing but an uneasy feeling.

Something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Something had been taken. Scraped out of him. Something important. He could feel its absence, like he’d still ‘feel’ his leg if somebody took that.

“There’s no way I’m going to relax until we get some answers.”

"Well, I can’t say you’re wrong, but consider looking at the situation with a dash more optimism, Hajime. It’s important to have hope. It might all turn out to be okay.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Usami.”

Flipping through to forget the longing feeling in his mind, he saw everybody else’s stats. Including a fun fact about them, and a quirky like and dislike that he was un _like_ ly to remember. And, of course everyone else’s measurements, too.

Student privacy? Legal protections? Confidentiality? What were those, were they tasty? Heck, Hope’s Peak was so powerful, why not just let them take nearly fifty college kids to a random island for a super radical vacation.

“Aww yeah! Top of the charts, bitches!” Miu proclaimed.

“... Is that so?” Hajime didn’t feel quite enough outrage to avoid trying to look that one up. He had no luck finding Miu’s profile, tragically. She didn’t show up on his roster, since his Hope Pad was the class 2 version. However, Komaeda was indeed there. That guy was too fluffy for his own good. His hair looked like a cloud. Did he ever comb it?

“Hey, Hajime, we’re in the same class. I’m kinda glad at least some of us can stick together. Right, Kazuichi?”

Kazuichi scratched the back of his head, shuffling his feet on the cobblestones. “Huh? Yeah, totally, man. At least we’re not going in alone.”

“You’re sad that we have to say goodbye to the girls, right? Especially Miss Kaede?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude!”

“Right, right. Sorry, my mistake. If you end up in the other class, though, that’ll make three of us.” Komaeda paused to survey the others as they walked past. “Probably more than three, honestly. Probably a bunch.”

Hajime looked up from his pad. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nevermind. Hey, has everybody figured out where they’re going?”

Junko nodded. “Me and Mookie are in Class 1 too. Better watch out, sis~ Even herbivores can bite occasionally.”

As if they rehearsed it, Junko pulled in around one side of Makoto. Mukuro took the other, boxing him in quite effectively. Especially with Sayaka and Chihiro also hovering nearby, the Ultimate Lucky Student was looking quite lucky to all the other guys.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, Junko,” Mukuro confirmed, fixing her robotic stare on Makoto.

“H-Herbivores?” Makoto didn’t look like he felt all that lucky. The bastard-

“Seems like we got it sorted,” Kaito sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Looks like we’re just about the only people left here. Well, nowhere to go, but forward! Let’s head over there, and then join our classes. Remember, if you guys need help, we’ll be in the same area, just yell real loud.”

Chihiro nodded. “I’ll… do my best.”

“Not to worry, we have Makoto here, he’ll keep us safe,” Sayaka said, with a level of sincerity that made Makoto himself scratch his chin. “And I’ll do my best, too, of course!”

“I’ll also do what little I can,” Mukuro agreed stoically. “Hopefully I can keep up with you, Makoto.”

He stared at her in incredulous disbelief, and she stared back at him, those blue eyes giving away no hint of anything at all.

“Great…”

“We should all do what we can.” Kaede said. “We’ll compare notes later. Byakuya had the right idea!”

“Hey, he’ll be in our class, too,” Makoto said.

“Same here,” Hajime remarked. “Uh, ours is is the big one.”

It was impressive what putting somebody in a larger space, and then limiting it before their very eyes, could do to a person’s mentality. Hajime had only seen one island, plus the middle bit, of Gopher Island anyhow. Yet, after the meeting, knowing that the other bridges were impassable, and the islands were cut off, he felt bottled up. There was only one way to go, and all the Ultimates went over it, one way or another. Slow or fast, eager and curious or churlish and concerned. It didn’t matter, they went where they were told, for there was nothing left for them on Center Island.

Certainly no food.

From the background chatter, he gathered nobody had actually awoken on First Island. It was new territory. Based on where the Kaito-Kaede Confederation had come from, and the map, the groups had started on Second Island. There were the mysterious ruins, the library, and Kaito also told everybody about their group’s other discovery. A novelty roadside diner, near the entrance to a tunnel. Which led to a protected, sheltered, private beachfront called Chandler Beach, complete with a nice beach house and all the works.

The map on the Hope Pads showed ten islands in total, including Center Island. All others seemed roughly of similar size, although First and Second were definitely on the smaller side. Considering how big Second Island was, then, the others had to be massive. Only the Center looked tiny; he could see all of it just by casting his eyes back and forth. Details such as landmarks and buildings were only available for the Center, which was just the park and a bit of trees surrounding it, and First Island. That had a total of five sites marked, starting with the Resort Hotel Complexes, designated 1, 2, and 53.

A market was also, appropriately enough, marked, with a helpful info-sidebar appeared when he put his finger on it. Supplies of all kinds were supposed to be available, food included most of all. His rumbling stomach was glad for that. In spite of the name, Rocketpunch Supermarket, the contents were replenished on a weekly basis, and free for any student.

He made a mental note to check that out as a priority. As well as the final bookmark, Tranquility Beach. A larger, more public beach with plenty of room for everybody. Presumably, it was marked out specifically because most of the coastline was unsuitable for relaxing in. Rocky cliffs and jagged edges.

Hajime saw those jagged cliffs, splashed by the gentle waves, as they came in on the bridge. He watched the students sorting into three groups of roughly equal size, and said his goodbyes to the others, following Nagito and Kazuichi. He noticed several Ultimates peel off completely, headed for the market or the beach instead. That loud guy, Ishimaru, tried to herd them back, but had the same effect as trying to yell at cats.

If their stomachs couldn’t pull them towards the hotels, then even the Ultimate Moral Compass wasn’t going to find much luck.

The only class who didn’t have antisocial types peel off and do their own thing was Class 2. Hajime counted; fifteen students gathered together before the gates of their hotel, and with himself, that made sixteen. The whole roster was complete.

Even though he only stood before a third of the total number of Ultimates, it was daunting to come face-to-face with them all. Save for the two guys he’d already met, they were all strangers. They looked at him just as he looked at them.

There were eight boys, and eight girls. Among them, physical types varied greatly. Byakuya was not actually the largest person present, although he was the most portly. The largest one was a guy with what appeared to be actual lightning coming out of his eyes. He was so energetic, lively, and muscular. Plus, he featured an actual chain around his neck, just hanging in some kind of decoration.

Nobody else quite reached the peak of intimidation that fellow gave off, although among the girls, there was a dark-skinned lady in a white button-up that simply couldn’t handle her chest, who stood tall and had the physique of an athlete, especially featuring huge, thick thighs and long legs. With her wild, tousled brown hair and contemptful stare, she gave off the air of a troublemaker.

And then there was the other girl who immediately caught Hajime’s eye; she had what appeared to be a sword case slung over her shoulder, sported white hair tied and braided tightly, and a pair of spectacles over bright red eyes. Red eyes that seemed to bore a hole right through him. She wasn’t even fixated on Hajime; she looked all over, measuring everyone up.

Much like Hajime himself was doing, but probably with more of an eye towards who she could take in a fight. Her thin-lipped expression didn’t give it away, but if her talent involved that sword, the answer would probably be ‘everybody’.

Red eyes, take warning. Obvious, in retrospect.

Some safe haven of hope and friendship, if some people were allowed to walk around visibly armed.

Everyone was assembled before the gated entrance to the walled complex, whose sign proclaimed it to be the Mirai Hotel. Before anybody could break the awkward silence, or Hajime could even look over all the students assembled, that silence was broken.

Usami appeared out of nowhere.

“Greetings, Class 2!”

“Whoa!”

“Where did you come from?”

Perhaps not the reception she’d been expecting.

“... Um, apologies for popping in unannounced. I just wanted to explain something… if that’s okay…”

The smallest guy of the bunch fixed Usami with his best death glare. He had a babyface, close-shaved hair, and a nice suit on. It wasn’t terribly intimidating to Hajime. But it was enough to make Usami panic and look like she was going to flee. “Just get the fuck on with it.”

Usami was frozen stiff, and spoke rapid-fire. “Okay! You all were scheduled to be in the same class originally! That’s why I divided the Ultimates up this way, into three groups. Because these are your actual Hope’s Peak Academy classes.”

“Oh, yeah?” A redheaded girl said, putting her hands on her hips and leaning forward. As she did, a large, old-style camera hung from her neck, dropping down. “I guess that makes sense, then.”

“Yes! And I’ve brought some proof! Everyone’s tensions are still way too high, since this trip is designed to nurture hope and friendship. So I decided to show you all that I can be super extra mega trusted! And get you to get along better with your classmates, at the same time! Here!” Usami reached into a pocket whose position made Hajime slightly uncomfortable, and produced a flashlight. She held it aloft, like it was some great thing.

“Wow,” Nagito said, spreading his hands wide with amazement. “A flashlight. Look, Hajime.”

“What’s that supposed to prove?” Hajime asked.

“It’s not just any flashlight, my dears. It’s a flash _back_ light. Using amazing technology, this device actually has the power to restore some part of the memory loss you all tragically suffered!”

“And which you didn’t have anything to do with?” Nagito asked, calm as could be.

“Of course not! That was covered during the meeting, Mister Komaeda. I am a Hope’s Peak Academy professor, and I would never do anything to hurt you. In fact, I’m not sure how this all happened. And because of that, I couldn’t possibly restore everything you all have lost in one go. But this will begin the healing process, bring back just a bit of your memory, and, of course, prove that I’m telling you nothing except the hopeful truth.”

While a few people naturally had doubts, nobody, Hajime included, could really say that it was better to refuse this flashback light thing. Especially since Usami said she was going to give the flashback to all three classes. Class 2 didn’t want to miss out on what might be something important.

A memory of Hope’s Peak, or how they got there? Or a hint for Hajime about the nature of his talent? After a discussion between the strangers, nobody left disagreed with Usami.

“Very well,” Byakuya said, deigning to give his own permission. “You may proceed.”

At his prompting, Usami slid open a small button on the flashback light. She pointed it right in their eyes.

Hajime saw every single color in the entire universe.

Then, he saw nothing but white, as pain wracked every single nerve in his body. His knees gave out, causing him to crumple to the ground in a heap. His vision was pure white, and he couldn’t move from there, flat on his back, twitching.

After some moments of silence, during which he saw nothing, he felt others touching him, hands on him. On his shoulder, somebody trying to shake him. He heard voices, distantly, though, a long tunnel.

_“Hajime!”_

_“What’s happening? He looks like he’s having a seizure…”_

_“Don’t try and hold him down, morons!”_

_“Everyone, please stand back! I’m a nurse. Um, the Ultimate Nurse, actually…”_

_“We could tell that by your dumb, stereotypical outfit, pig barf! Get moving!”_

_“Eeeek! Okay! I’m sorry!”_

Hajime felt tired. He couldn't move. He had no energy left anywhere in his body, and he was fading fast.

_“That didn’t happen that way to any of us…”_

_“Usami! What did you do to that guy?!”_

_“P-Please put me down, Mister Nidai! P-Please don’t shake me to and fro, Mister Nidai! That hurts! I swear on my stuffing, I didn’t think that would happen at all!”_

The voices grew more faint. The last thing he heard before passing out was Usami’s protests.

_“The flashback lights aren’t harmful devices. They are therapy tools! They only restore memories...”_


	4. 0-4. The Ultimate Awakening I (Hajime)

_There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide._

_Not that he didn’t try. For weeks, he fled._

_Like all of the other Ultimates, he scattered to the four winds in the wake of their coming._

_Angry mobs. Riots in the streets. Police officers, and even the JSDF, were called in to stop it. But their units turned around and joined the madness instead._

_The Ultimate Hunt._

_A rolling riot that rolled right over what was supposed to be a first-world country, transforming Japan into hell._

_Well, hell for some very select people. The elites. The ones who used to be running the show. The Ultimates._

_Everywhere he went, at every turn, they were looking for them. For him._

_Ultimates were not subtle. They broadcasted their abilities, and unique personalities. Attitude, appearance, their singular drive and focus. Their sense of superiority. Life’s lottery winners. Hope’s Peak Academy was the symbol of it all, a massive school right in the middle of town. ‘A tower of humanity’s arrogance,’ they said. They went after it first._

_But the Ultimates were all fighting or running by that point. All the self-styled hunters found was empty classrooms, and a few ticking surprises._

_Not that fighting back did much good. Some Ultimates had combat skills that were exceptional or even seemed supernatural, but the entire hopeless country was rising up against them. There were always more bodies to throw in, and not one cared about their own survival._

_It was true despair._

_So the ones who stood and fought ended up dead, whatever their skills. They were paraded through the streets by the mobs. Hajime watched the news reports, and saw treasured friends lost to senseless violence._

_The ones who tried to flee, like him, had better luck for a time. But there was a limit. They couldn’t hide forever._

_The only option left was to cut off the part of himself that inspired such unthinking hatred._

_A certain facility was doing cutting-edge research into tampering with memories._

_It was dangerous, but the Hunt was far more so._

**“I want to die with everyone else.”**

_That was his own voice, wasn’t it?_

* * *

The first thing Hajime saw when he opened his eyes was Nagito.

Lucky him.

Nagito hovered close, taking up most of Hajime’s vision. The fluffy white hair did the rest, blocking out everything else about the environment behind him. Everything was just Nagito in that moment, and they looked into each others’ eyes.

“Why couldn’t a girl be doting over me like this?” Hajime asked, his voice dry and faint from disuse. Not faint enough, though.

Nagito’s expression, twisted up with concern, broke into a sly grin. “He’s awake, Mikan.” He pulled back a bit, but remained at the side of what Hajime realized was an actual, proper bed.

Sleeping in one of those, even if it had been an unplanned nap, was welcome. Given his last nap was overnight in a lecture hall.

“Eek!” Hajime flinched in his comfortable bed when he heard a metallic crash. The fog of sudden-onset fatigue was lifted, and his arms and legs moved about beneath the thin white sheet covering him. Hajime was freely able to look over at the source of the noise, but was surprised to see only a white apron. Then he looked up, and his eyes traveled over an appearance which could only mean one thing.

The girl really liked the colors purple and white.

And, most critically, she was thick as oatmeal. Unreasonably so.

Oh man, did he miss lunch? While Hajime mulled over the horrifying prospect of missing his first meal in what felt like days, Nagito withdrew. He left a girl to loom over him, just as requested, but stayed nearby. Despite what he might grumble out loud, Hajime had to confess in his own mind that having Nagito around was comforting. A small bit of familiarity in a world that kept changing, and refusing to make sense.

The girl called Mikan was purple all over. Hair, eyes, clothing, with a white apron marked with some red symbols. Everyone loved their own special little symbols, that was a trend.

“H-Hello there,” She said, gently. Her voice had far less of a stable, wide, steady base than her body did. High-pitched, and nervous. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Are you hungry?”

“Hungry,” Hajime confirmed, nodding vigorously. “Otherwise, um. Not bad? All things considered. Nothing hurts.”

“I’m really glad to hear that, Mister Hajime.” The girl addressed as Mikan let out a sigh and clasped her hands together. “Your reaction to the flashback light was shocking. Nobody else in our class passed out, um. Do you have a history of seizures or epilepsy, either personally, or in your family?”

“I don’t remember anything like that,” Hajime replied. “Oh, by the way. Nice to meet you. I’m Hajime Hinata, and my talent is, uh. Still unknown. But it’s got to be super amazing after all this build up, right…?”

Mikan stared down at him for a few moments, and he stared at her. There was a lot to stare at. Hajime felt like he was perfectly justified in doing so, given he had just had a traumatic incident. They stayed like that until Nagito playfully waved a hand over Mikan’s face, which provoked a massive breakdown.

Mikan started sobbing on the spot, eyes squinted shut. “I’m sorry!”

“Huh?”

“I forgot all about introducing myself, and just skipped straight to grilling you about your family’s medical history! That is the height of rudeness! Please, forgive me! Can you ever forgive me?”

Hajime looked over to Nagito, who shook his head. “I think you’d better forgive her, Hajime. And don’t quit your day job.”

“Listen, you- Hey, look- There’s nothing to... Uh, I-it’s okay. Miss…?”

“... I’m sorry again! I forgot again! My name is Mikan Tsumiki. if you’d care to go to the trouble of remembering it, it would make me very… happy…” Mikan Tsumiki said, between sobs that wracked her thick, pillowy frame. “A-Also, may I have permission to remember your name, as well?”

“Sure, it’s not normally something I let commoners remember. So you’d better be grateful-”

Hajime had to make a mental note that Nagito was right. About this one thing.

And nothing else.

Making jokes at Mikan Tsumiki was clearly a poor idea. She was on the hardwood floorboards of his cabin in a second, and her long purple hair was flowing every which way as she bowed furiously. “Thank you! This is the nicest thing anybody has done for me today! Or in weeks, really!”

That was more depressing than the dream where he was literally on the run for his life.

Oh yeah, that. Hajime privately hoped against hope that the things he saw were just, in fact, a bad dream. Even as the rational part of his brain, the part not staring at attractive people or bemoaning the lack of food, told him that, whether or not it was bogus, he couldn’t afford to write that vision off. Given the circumstances that give it to him, he had to bring it up with the others at the next meeting.

“Mikan’s the Ultimate Nurse,” Naito helpfully explained. “She knew exactly what to do when you started freaking out and fell over, Hajime. She’s probably the reason you’re still alive, so you shouldn’t tease her.”

“I was just- nngh.”

“T-T-That is something of an exaggeration, Mister Komaeda,” Mikan objected, stuttering over herself in her haste to banish the idea that she was useful or good.

Which, in turn, provoked a wave of self-effacement from Nagito. “Please, don’t use any nice titles to refer to somebody like me. I’m not important enough for that kind of thing.”

“Oh, but you kindly went over to the other classes to inform your group that Mister Hajime was ill, and you went to the meeting in his place!”

“Anybody would do that sort of thing.”

The two had a fight about who hated themselves the most.

Consequently, Hajime won, because he had to listen to it.

Nagito folded his arms. “I don’t think you’ve got the right to be shooting anybody strange looks about the stuff they say. Fun fact, you talk in your sleep. Or at least you did here. Tossing and turning, sweating like you had a fever. you kept saying ‘I want to die with everyone else’, over and over. You nearly gave poor Mikan a heart attack.”

“W-W-Whatever problems you’re having right now in your personal life, Mister Hajime, you shouldn’t think about permanent solutions to t-temporary problems,” Mikan said, visibly stressed to the point of sweating. She was parroting lines that Hajime himself had heard from counselors, when they talked to other people about a problem _he didn’t have_.

No part of Hajime Hinata wanted to die. If anything, he wanted the missing pieces of himself back so bad, it physically hurt.

No, wait, that was the onset of starvation. “Hey, let’s get something to eat.”

Before he could bestir himself from his bed, Mikan sprang towards the door. “Since you seem to be okay, and I don’t really have any anti-flashlight bandages, I’ll go ahead and make sure there’s some food ready! Please stay here for now and rest!” Without offering her patient a moment to get in any words edgewise, she left the cabin.

It was seconds before Hajime pulled himself up to his feet. Nagito moved forward to support him if needed, but he stood up fine. “You should just let the Ultimate Nurse dote on you a little, Hajime,” Nagito said. “She is super cute.”

“I know. C’mon. I still haven’t even met most of my classmates. Probably all waiting around for my Hope Fragment.”

“Well, I’ll come along. Of course. I think you’ll need me to save your life. Oh hey, speaking of which. Watch what you say, Hajime.”

It was the first time Hajime had seen inside the walled compound of Hotel Mirai, but the rows of bungalows, four rows of four, aligned two by two along a walkway that ran over water like they were in a city with canals, actually took a backseat. Because on that wooden walkway, a pair of girls were approaching, and looked as surprised by his appearance as he was by theirs.

It was the swordswoman with white hair and burning red eyes from earlier, and the redhead with a camera. Who spoke up immediately. “Look who’s finally back on his feet. You know, the entire class had to wait around in the hotel just to get your Hope Fragments, Unreliable Hajime.”

“Oh, they really did?” Hajime glanced to Nagito, who nodded. “Uh, in that case, I’m sorry.”

The other girl shook her head. “It’s nothing to blame you about, you were unconscious.” Her deep, calm voice was actually soothing, at least compared to the danger the rest of her exuded. He was strongly reminded of Mukuro, and idly wondered if each class had a girl likely to be a stone-cold killer. At least she was more reasonable than the camera-girl.

Which said a lot.

“Sheesh. If you coddle boys like that, they’ll just run out of control,” The redhead said, brushing back some hair from her eyes. “Anyway, we came to check on how you were doing, since Mikan looked like she was in a massive panic.”

Nagito emerged from the cabin to stand beside his friend, and rubbed his chin in what was becoming a common tic. “I think that was just Mikan being Mikan. As you can see, he’s back to his normal self.”

“We wouldn’t really know that, as we’ve yet to even introduce ourselves. That being said, hello, Hajime Hinata. My name is Peko Pekoyama.”

… It was?

Pfffffft.

On such a stone-faced warrior. Of course.

“I am known as the Ultimate Swordswoman.” In stark contrast to many members of the Kaito-Kaede Confederation, the white-haired girl didn’t downplay her talent, or remind them she was still basically in training. Peko just said it flat-out, and in a manner that made it clear she had no doubts at all about laying claim to the title. She might even, if Hajime wasn’t imagining it, have wished somebody could challenge her.

In present company, she was unlikely to find that challenge. Nagito was pretty, but still looked like a stiff ocean breeze might carry him away. If that happened, he’d look just like a poppy flying through the air.

Maybe it was Hajime’s inability to contain a small smirk that provoked her next remark. Maybe Peko was just planning on giving this spiel to every boy. Regardless, her next words were a stern, calm warning. “From what Usami has said, we’re going to be expected to live on these islands together. That being the case, when boys and girls live together, it’s important for them to respect each other.”

Hajime got the point immediately. “Yeah, I agree.”

“I’m glad. This is supposed to be a trip about nurturing friendship and developing talent. I would _hate_ to spoil it by killing somebody.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Hahaha, Peko, you’re such a good kidder with that poker face,” Nagito said, laughing uncomfortably loud, because he was uncomfortable. “I mean, isn’t that sword you’re carrying around just a bokken? A wooden practice sword? It’s not even sharp, right?”

Thank God-

“It’s true that it’s much harder to kill somebody with a blunt object than a sharp one. However, a misaimed blow can still be fatal.” Peko adjusted her glasses, and the light from the sun, now far in the other side of the sky and heading slowly, steadily downwards, glinted off her lenses for a moment. “Then again, an aimed blow can be fatal, too.”

“I take your point,” Hajime said, quickly.

Satisfied, Peko turned, no doubt expecting the redhead to follow suit. “My turn, right? Okay, got it. I’m Mahiru Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer.” Her brisk, upfront, blunt nature, and the obvious camera hanging from her neck, all fit together well with that. Mahiru had freckles, which brought another mental connection to Mukuro. Although she was less blatantly, lethally dangerous. “No offense, Peko, but I can say I’m glad to meet some people who seem a little more… sane?”

“That’s fair,” Peko nodded calmly, despite having been insulted right to her face. “I’m worried far less about these two than that other boy. The one who tries to speak in French and occasionally succeeds.”

“Oh man.” Mahiru shook her head. “You guys will see soon enough. Anyhow, we’re waiting.”

“For?”

She smacked her head lightly in a mocking gesture. “For your introductions, of course! Not only is it good manners, something you boys need to work on in general, but we don’t actually know how the Hope Fragment system works. If you don’t greet us with your talents, we might not get anything.”

“Even though we’ve already heard it from Nagito,” Peko nodded. “It would be best to be thorough about this. We’ve spent enough time milling around.”

Of course, when Mahiru got their introductions, she was less than impressed. It was written all over her face. She couldn’t help but be expressive, in stark contrast to Peko by her side, who was an enigma. Hajime was expecting a tirade from the photographer, perhaps about how they needed to be tough and protect all the girls like they were supposed to. He’d heard that a few times growing up from his own mom.

“Well. I’ve already made a mental note that you’re pretty flaky, Unreliable Hajime. If you’re going to go around fainting from a flashlight. You’re gonna have to work hard to change that impression of mine, understand?” She jabbed a finger at him.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” Hajime replied out loud, keeping what he really thought firmly reserved to the confines of his own, incredibly-loopy mind. She was probably just trying some weird motivational technique.

“And, here. Pete’s sake, have this before you pass out again. Then go around and finish all the rest of your introductions.” Mahiru produced a granola bar from the pockets of her green dress, tossing it to him. “Think fast!”

Hajime was glad he caught it, having already met his ‘looking uncool in front of girls’ quota for the month. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Since we’ve got your Hope Fragment, we’ll head to the other hotels to gather the rest.” The girls moved on, leaving Hajime to fiddle with the wrapper. Nagito watched how fast that granola bar died with a mixture of concern and awe.

“Summary execution, take no prisoners. That’s how you roll, Hajime. Very diesel.”

“Where’s the next _wonderful friend_ we’re going to make?”

“I’m pretty sure I know where everyone’s hanging out. This hotel isn’t huge, so don’t worry. We’ll find them. Should be two people hanging out in their cottages. They probably want to be alone, but hey. Hope moves forward.”

“Don’t adopt Usami’s catch-phrases, please.”

He went over to one particular bungalow, as directed by Nagito. They were surrounded by charming resort accomodations, Hajime had to admit. They looked very simple, but the insides were modern, with all the amenities expected. Including individual air-conditioning units, and even a heater, should the night prove as cold as the day was hot. They even had little mailboxes in front of each, with cute pixel-art representations of each person, that matched up with the icons found on his Hope Pad’s map. With that, he could tell where everyone’s room was, even zipping over to the other hotel complexes, 1, and 53.

Which was when something struck him as odd. He paused, flipping between the map icons of all three in turn. “Hey, Nagito. If you’ve been to the other hotels, that must mean you’ve seen their accommodations, right? They’re completely identical to ours, aren’t they?”

“That’s right. It seems like they built three hotel complexes off the same blueprint. Just in different locations.”

“Then what’s with the ‘old building’ marked for renovation in Hotel 2? Why don’t the other hotels have something like that? And for that matter, what’s that extra space for, anyway?” The map didn’t have much in the way of specific detail, or have any satellite images or anything. He’d probably have to go there and use the Mk. I Eyeball to see for himself.

“Oh, it gets weirder than that. They do, in fact, have old buildings. Identical to ours.”

“Huh? But on the map, it’s just empty space there, for both of them. Only this one has the icon.”

Nagito shrugged. “Add it to the pile. Heck, all three hotels also have the same name, ‘Hotel Mirai’, even though on the map, they’ve been distinguished so we can tell them apart. C’mon, ring the doorbell.”

“Alright.” No point dwelling on it just then. Just had to move forward.

_Ding dong._

…

_Ding dong._

Nagito stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder. “Hajime, let me do most of the talking on this one. Trust me. Contents are volatile, and dangerous.”

“More dangerous than the Ultimate Swordswoman?”

“Yes.”

Nagito cupped his hands together and yelled. “Fuyuhiko! It’s me, Nagito! And I’ve got Hajime! We just want to say hello!”

 _“Go away!”_ A kid’s voice yelled back at them through the thick wood, barely audible. Good soundproofing, at least. It would be hard to hear anything short of, and maybe including, somebody being murdered while you were in the room with the door shut.

Nagito let out a sigh. “We don’t know how picky Usami is feeling, Fuyuhiko! I know you’re curious about the other islands!”

After a few moments of waiting, the door opened, a bit. Through the crack, Hajime recognized the babyface in a suit. He had a weird symbol carved into his short-cut light hair, which was probably the most distinguishing characteristic about him, physically. Overall, it had to be the attitude, which was pretty caustic. “Fine, but make it quick. Nagito, since you know, you can introduce us.”

Hajime was about to protest, pointing out what Nagito did earlier, but his sidekick cut him off. “Fuyuhiko, this is Hajime Hinata, and he can’t remember his Ultimate talent right now. And Hajime, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. The Ultimate Yakuza, and heir to the Kuzuryu clan.”

“... What?”

“Alright, that should be good enough. And now that you know, bastard, don’t go hassling me no more. I’m not here to fucking make friends, whatever that rabbit says to us. Now make like a tree, and fuck off.”

With that, the door was shut in Hajime’s face before he could fully process the idea that the kid in a suit before him was a gangster. Not just a gangster, the future head of the largest clan of Yakuza in the country. Everyone, even normal guys like him, heard of them. They were rumored to have a membership in the tens of thousands, and were responsible for all sorts of stuff.

Well, that's why they called it ‘organized crime’.

He was grateful their ‘conversation’ was so short now. “Fucking fantastic. Who’s next? The Ultimate War Criminal? The Ultimate Serial Killer? Maybe the Ultimate Ultimate Hunter? Maybe they could be one of the assholes who were trying to hunt us down back in Japan. Just among us, waiting to strike. A traitor in our midst. That would be great.”

Nagito stared at him. “You remember that, too? Wait, that actually does make sense.”  
  
Hajime shrugged. “Wasn’t that what everyone saw in the flashback light?”

“No. You’re one of only three people who saw anything about the Ultimate Hunt. Everyone else, myself included, have never even heard that term before. It just so happens that the other two people who collapsed from the flashback lights are your fellow Ultimate Amnesiacs, Kyouko and Rantaro from the other classes.”

‘What? Then what did you see when it happened? What did the others see?”

“Just like Usami said, it was a vision of our first day at the actual Hope’s Peak together. We were all in a class. Nothing much actually happened, but it helps substantiate Usami’s claims. Every other person got the same memory.”

“Hang on. Weren’t there four of us who couldn’t remember our talents? Maki was the last one, right?”

“That’s her name. She didn’t report any of that stuff about the Ultimate Hunt when I went to check on Kaede and her class. It was just Rantaro who passed out, and started talking about the Hunt. She remembered the class like the rest. Seemed pretty shaken up, though.”

Hajime took a deep breath, and tried to re-center himself, with only some success. “Anything else turn up at the strategy meeting?”

“Honestly? No. Everybody looked around, and met everyone. They gave us some offhand descriptions of their classmates. But we couldn’t find any way out of here, any means of contacting the outside world, or clues about anything. And there’s not much to search, the area we’re trapped in isn’t exactly gigantic.”

“Then forget it. Where’s the other Ultimate in their cabin? Let’s get this all done.”

“You’re right, we should stay focused.”

_Ding dong._

_Ding dong-_

_**“Who dares?!**_ ” The door to the other guy’s cabin flew open with a crash, that caused both of his visitors to flinch. Along with the roaring question, at the top of this strange fellow’s lungs.“You dare bring _light_ to my _lair_?!” This was evidently the expected result, for he next gave forth a rolling, maniacal high-pitched evil laugh.

That was the only way Hajime could have described what the scarf-and-coat wearing, different-colored-eye weirdo was doing, right before him. His mouth was wide open, and his shoulders were shaking with mirth at having successfully startled two people. “Ah! It’s _you_ , the one who couldn’t withstand Usami’s power. If you couldn’t block such a weak magical attack, then what hope do you think you have against the likes of me?!”

“Um.”

“However! It’s that very spirit, the one to challenge me in spite of the obvious difference in our power levels, that excites me! I can respect your determination. Even though all the rest of your pitiful class has already learned to keep a wide distance from me, lest they be cast into a _watery grave_.”

“Uh.”

“So! You _fiend!_ Which tribe do you belong to, hm? To whom have you sworn your blood oath? Answer, for afterwards, I shall send you to eternity with the power of my evil eye!” The man, dressed in dark clothes, featured a scar over one of his eyes. Not the unnatural red one, though, but the natural-looking one. It mitigated the effect he was going for. He struck an eccentric pose, something more like what a fashion model would do than an evil mage. It showed good balance, at least.

Hajime rounded on Nagito, who rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I probably should have warned you, sorry. Um, he’s always like this, so just don’t worry about it. I think he’s trying to ask you what kind of pet you have at home.”

“How can you tell?”

“He gave me the same routine earlier,” Nagito admitted, hugging himself and shivering, despite wearing his green coat in the midst of a tropical island. “Just answer him.”

“Um, I don’t own any pets. Closest I ever got was taking care of the class hamster in Elementary,” Hajime replied, holding his hands up like he was worried about being shot. Given the company he’d abruptly found himself in, who knew if this guy wasn’t the Ultimate Assassin or something-

“Feh. I knew it. You had the aura of the Clanless about you. Uncertain of past, present, or future. Lost many of the memories you may have held dear, and even uncertain about your own existence. While surrounded by talented and exceptional people, you’re anything but. The both of you, truly pitiful scum. Your magic essence caps out at a lowly five.”

The previous insane ranting was baffling, and frustrating in a sense. But Hajime found it a bit amusing, it was so over the top. Those remarks, however, cut right to the bone. Far too close to just shrug it off as somebody clowning around. He felt a sudden swell of anger. “Listen here, buddy. If you go off like a fucking grenade in everyone’s face when they try to so much as introduce themselves, no wonder everybody already knows to avoid you like the plague!”

Hajime turned, and walked off. Nagito was so startled, he took a few moments to chase after him and grab his arm. “Hajime! Wait! This guy’s attitude isn’t really-”

“I just have to _look beyond it_ , right? Just _deal_ with another person in my face, shitting on me for no reason? I just have to _accept_ it as an eccentricity? _I’m sure he’s a great guy_ once he gets done with ranting? _Let’s just make friends?!_ ”

While he was startled earlier from the loud noises, in the face of Hajime’s furious, mocking reaction, Nagito didn’t so much as blink. “Yes, in fact. We need to get those Hope Fragments. You and Gundham are both lacking in that department. Come on, just go tell him who you are, and he’ll do the same. He did for me, even after all his ranting. Hajime, everyone has their own way of doing things, and you need to let it roll off you, like water off a stone.”

“You’re too chilled out about this whole deal, Nagito,” Hajime said, poking his finger into the other boy’s chest. “Have you perhaps noticed how much bullshit we’ve gone through today?"

"Let's go over it together, just to make sure. We’re kidnapped, taken to an island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, probably, drugged, our memories were _stolen_ , a stuffed bunny does magic tricks and tells us this is our new life, living together and _gathering the fucking Power of Friendship_. Oh, and all the people we’re supposed to make friends with are _insane_!”

“Half, at most,” Nagito corrected. “... You’re really scaring me now, Hajime. Please don’t look at me like that. I don’t know what to tell you. Like I’ve alluded to before, I’ve been in really bad places before. I’m not just spinning tales to sound cool, because uh, I really am as Gundham said. Just some garbage that can only possibly be of use to other Ultimates as a stepping stone. So please let me help you. I’m not trying to argue any of your points, but our situation could still be so much worse. Let’s at least be thankful for that, and do what we need to do.”

It was sure awkward to return to this Gundham fellow, walking back and finding him still in the doorway, leaning against it with arms crossed. At least that indicated that he knew the Hope Fragments were important, too.

“I’m Hajime Hinata, and I’m the Ultimate Puzzle Master. I trap people in ironic death traps to teach them lessons about their lives, and how to change for the better. When they caught me, they forced me to enroll in Hope’s Peak Academy as a form of parole. How about you?”

“Burn this name into your memory, foolish fiend. For it is the name that will one day rule this planet. I am the Supreme Overlord of Ice, Gundham Tanaka!”

In all his fury, Hajime truly wasn’t prepared for what was to come. Four adorable hamsters emerged from the deep recesses of Gundham’s purple scarf, each in a different color of well-kept fur. They clambered over and around him, chittering happily, oblivious to the lightning in the air. Or the mad ramblings of their owner.

“And these are my Four Dark Devas of Destruction! On your knees! Beg forgiveness from me, and they say they will spare you… this time!”

Nagito physically interposed himself between the two of them, spotting that Hajime was about to deck the other man, purely because it would be the first thing in countless hours to make any sense at all. “Look. Just because I have hope things will work out doesn’t mean I can’t understand why you guys are super stressed right now. We’re in a really weird situation, and everybody is just barely getting to know each other. So we’re all on edge.”

“If you’re alluding to this curr’s _pitiful_ attempts to insult _me_ , you needn’t concern yourself for one second, servant of chaos. His barbs had no more of an effect on me than any attack could. It’s all nullified by my field of absolute terror, which deflects all physical, magical, and spiritual attacks up to level ten.” Gundham brushed it off, but then pulled up his scarf, so it covered his mouth and the lower part of his face, looking away.

“Besides, I drive them all away on purpose. It’s not like I would regret such a thing happening, and all the normal human _trash_ avoiding me. So it matters not one bit.”

“And, Hajime, as you might gather from the ham-hams-”

“Four Dark Devas of Destruction!”

“Gundham here is the Ultimate Animal Breeder. He’s really not such a bad guy, you know. I mean, he’s saved entire endangered species. The UN awarded him a medal for it once. Seriously, the news boards were popping with all his ecological accomplishments when I did my research.”

Gundham smirked. “Heh. Accolades from the mortal world. A pittance compared to the riches in my castle.”

Hajime checked, and felt a sense of truly blessed relief when that Hope Fragment icon appeared. For the first time, he truly was a little grateful to Usami. Whatever her ultimate agenda for the Ultimates ultimately turned out to be, she at least wasn’t going to drag this out any further. He said a curt farewell to Gundham, and was stomping down the wooden plank walkway towards the poolside area, when Nagito asked him to wait up.

“Hajime! Everyone loses their cool occasionally, man. Don’t feel bad about it.”

Hajime folded his arms tightly over his green tie, which was pressed against his white shirt. “What? You think I regret telling that chuuni guy what I thought of his ‘lord of evil’ routine?”

“Yeah, in fact. You’re just that kind of guy. You shoot straight, you charge right ahead, and yet you think with your head. But you still end up wanting to get along with people, too, and not to be a jerk. It’s honestly why I find you so interesting. You’ve got a rare collection of traits.”

Hajime’s face wasn’t red because of anger anymore. “Come on. We must be over halfway done by now.” And off he went, with Nagito in tow.

Right towards the next destination, the large pool that dominated the center of Hotel Mirai’s complex. However, before Hajime could turn the corner and see it for himself, he heard loud footsteps, followed by a booming, hyper masculine voice rolling over the whole complex.

_**“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?! COME ON, COME ON, COME ON!”** _

Followed by a thunderous noise that rattled Hajime’s bones.

Then, a girl with long dark hair, punctuated by shock-purple, appeared running from the direction of the pool, and smacked right into Hajime. Neither of their frames were exactly sturdy, so both fell down in a tangle. They hit the wooden planks hard. However, the girl sprang back to her feet in an instant, wearing a strange combination of what looked like a high school uniform… and a punk rock getup, complete with torn, different-color blue and pink thighhigh socks.

And hair-horns? Horn styled to look like hair? “H-Hey, are you okay, miss...?”

Despite asking that, Hajime only got to his own feet after both Nagito, and the panicking girl, gave him helping hands. “Don’t worry about me! Heck, we don’t have time to chit-chat at all, Mister Memory Loss! We’ve got a big situation! It’s starting again!” She gripped his shoulders.

“What? What’s starting?”

“The madness! They're gonna tear each other apart!”

“No way.” Hajime stared into her eyes, which were full of terror. It reminded him of the flashback he was given. Those memories, the time of the Ultimate Hunt. “No way.” Or maybe Usami had just started to make whatever her real moves were, and it was unfolding right before them. Or… it was impossible to know, until he got over there. “No fucking way, that’s impossible…”

The pool was just a handful of steps away, and he took off at a sprint. “No way… no way…”

“It can’t be… please…”

Was _that_ why they were on this island? Why they couldn’t go home, or contact their families? Why their memories were altered? Was it to protect them from the ravages of the Ultimate Hunt?

Had they been found regardless? Was there really nowhere on this forsaken Earth to go?

"I won't believe it! I won't... believe it..."

He made it to the pool area in time to witness the start of a truly astounding battle. A battle he had no power to change, or stop. Two of the Ultimates he was supposed to get along with were fighting right before his eyes.


	5. 0-5. The Ultimate Awakening II (Hajime)

Two powerful figures, a man and a woman, leapt from opposite sides of the pool, intent on striking with all their fury.

The distance must have been at least ten meters, maybe fifteen or twenty. Hajime didn’t have his slide rule out, unfortunately. He was too busy gawking, open-mouthed, at the spectacle.

The combatants soared, each going for a kick. They had the same idea, and so, in that sense, worked together to bring themselves to a single meeting point. Right in the middle, in the air above the placid pool waters.

The force of their impact sent a shockwave out in all directions. It caused a windstorm that nearly knocked Hajime over. He had to brace himself, from the wind, and the sudden spray of water. Their clash kicked up a massive splash of water below, like a bomb was detonated in the pool. A tremendous amount of water fountained upwards, glistening with an artificial rainbow in the evening light. It covered the two mid-air figures, concealing them. They passed each other, and landed where their opponent had begin. Backs to the pool, and each other.

Both of these people were easily recognizable, because they stood out in any crowd. In the light of day, in Hajime’s moment of panic and fear, he remembered every single detail.

On the right, stood the gigantic muscled titan from the flashback light situation, dressed in a black jacket and too-tight blue jeans. Almost anything would be tight on his frame, he was built like a statue, and carved out of a similarly tough material, it looked like. He sported a goatee, and was visibly older than any of the other Ultimates. His shirt beneath the jacket was too tight, and the chains around him rattled. As before, his eyes sparked with what Hajme could have sworn looked like visible lightning. His build was exactly suitable for this kind of hand-to-hand combat, he looked like a composite character of fighting game and popular shonen anime.

To the left, was one of the girls Hajime marked out for particular concern. Her skin was much darker than the Japanese average, a healthy brown. Everything about her was, at minimum, ‘healthy’, with some parts muscular and bulging, and other parts exceptionally soft. And bulging. Her white button-up couldn’t handle any of her, and was almost bursting open, even without getting into the fact that it was now soaked. Her hair, wild and poofy, weighed down, also dripping wet around her face. With her eyes concealed, and just her mouth and sharp, white teeth visible in a wild grin, she had an absolutely animalistic streak. She had a short red skirt, which revealed massive, tree-trunk legs. Which she’d just used to amazing effect.

There was a moment of stunned silence after the great clash, as they both stood there, refusing to turn around. Perhaps, planning their next move. In this pause, Hajime had a chance to call out, although he paused, watching Nagito and the punk schoolgirl running to catch up with him, arriving on either side short of breath.

“Nagito, you know these two, right? Do something!”

“There’s nothing to do, Hajime.” Nagito replied, not sparing more than a glance for the absurd, larger-than-life situation unfolding before them. “It’s already over.”

“Look!” The girl said, pointing to the left. “She’s already dead!” Just as she finished saying that, the girl with a dark complexion and athletic build knelt, and her shoulders heaved. Hajime was shocked to see a tinge of pink that wasn’t from anything on her outfit.

It was blood.

He ran over to her, covering the perimeter of the pool, and going far faster that was advisable. It was surprising he didn’t slip and just fall in, but instead managed to get over to her, just as the man across from them proclaimed, in a booming voice, “You’re a thousand years too early to beat me like that, Akane.”

“Dammit… Don’t think I’m finished yet, you bastard…”

As Hajime reached the woman, he confirmed, she was coughing up her own blood onto the poolside tiles. The sickening pink of a person’s blood was something he’d only seen on TV… and in those terrible memories, but he recognized what it looked like well enough from that. “Hey! A-Are you okay?” He asked, hovering over her kneeling figure.

She turned her head, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “Huh? Oh. You’re the sickly boy everyone was talkin’ about earlier. Welcome back to the… _nngh_. Land of the living.”

This was not the time for casual conversation. “You’re bleeding!”

‘Oh, this?” Akane spat some blood into her palm and examined it. “I guess, a little. Coach Nekomaru really don’t hold back, even on a girl… But that’s why he’s such a badass. He doesn’t pull no punches, and I’ve...g-gotta show him how strong I’ve got since our first bout.”

“... First bout?” Hajime echoed. Once again, Nagito caught up, still gasping. Among his virtues, physical fitness was clearly not terribly high. Not that Hajime could talk; only his focus and fear kept him going as well as he was in that moment.

Those quickly faded when Nagito broke the news. “They’re _sparring_ , Hajime! They’re not really trying to kill each other!” He saw the look of sheer disbelief, and shook his head. “I mean, they are Ultimates, so even their play-fighting might alarm you at first. But if they were really fighting, don’t you think Usami would intervene?”

Oh, right. Rule one. Hajime said, “Extreme violence is prohibited on this island. Please live peaceful and relaxing lives with your fellow students.” He looked from one combatant to the other, and felt the tension crackling through the air. “This does not qualify! She’s bleeding internally! He must have kicked her so goddamn hard.”

“Hell yeah!” The smaller, in various senses, girl said, yelling from the lengthwise side of the pool facing towards the bungalows. “These two don’t mess, dude! Absolute murder!”

“... So, you’re gonna be okay?” Hajime asked Akane, who shook her head.

“Not until I can give Coach a run for his money. But the me who I am right now just ain’t got it… Can’t really move anymore. Oh, by the way. We were waitin’ for you to get up so we could get those stupid Fragments. That’s why me and Coach got bored and had to start sparring here, even though that fat guy-”

 _“Exactly what in my name have I_ told _you two about fighting in the hotel area?!”_

Here came Byakuya. Hajime was impressed at the speed he got up to when he was really motivated. He came flying out of the hotel lobby area, the building on the other side of the pool from the cabins, going through the glass doors and yelling his displeasure. Behind him, trailed a bewildered Kazuichi, who looked a lot more in-shape, but was struggling to keep up.

“... Not to?” Coach Nekomaru said, suddenly sounding a lot more bashful and nervous than his thundering voice would imply. In fact, was he over there picking his goddamn nose?

“And you, Akane! What did I say about fighting in the hotel area?!”

“... Is, that, like, a trick question? Dude, I’m totally injured right now, I can’t be expected to remember all the stuff you yell at us.”

“You do yell at us a lot,” Nekomaru said, coming to the defense of the woman he’d just kicked hard enough to go to jail for, if they were back in the normal, ordinary world. Well, not if the woman agreed it was a sparring match, probably.

“Wonder why,” Nagito said, grinning as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Both of you! Go to your rooms until dinner!”

Coach Nekomaru shook his head. “You have got to be kidding, Byakuya.”

“No! I’m really not. If you two insist on acting like children, then so shall I treat you! Go to your rooms and stop beating each other to death. You’re getting blood all over a poolside that I might wish to, at some point, enjoy. And Akane! Change into a shirt that isn’t soaking wet! Everyone present now knows you don’t wear a bra!”

“That’s not good, especially for a lady with such a massive, wonderful chest,” The other girl put in. “Although I sure don’t mind the wet shirt part! Ahahaha! It makes me feel way more alive to see such a wonderful sight. I’m feeling so invigorated, I could write, star in, perform, and produce a new album!”

Hajime watched in awe as two powerful fighters, who had unleashed superhuman power on each other, and caused the ground itself to shake and rumble, shuffled off. Just as they were told by a big man in a white suit. Said big man noticed his own ahoge-bearing self soon afterwards. “Oh, you’re up and about, Hajime. That’s a relief.”

“Thanks,” Hajime replied, smiling. He had passed right through the anger stage at full throttle, and now, after that panic, with the adrenaline in his system already starting to go stale, his heart thundering like a piston, and the situation growing ever more absurd, he was just embracing that absurdity with both hands.

“Wait, you two! This is a good opportunity, we all need Hajime’s Hope Fragment anyway. It’s why I asked everyone to remain on standby in the hotel complex. So, Hajime. Introduce yourself to the class.”

“You bet. Hello, everybody! It’s great to meet you. My name’s Hajime Hinata, and I hope we all get along in the coming semester. I’ll be in your care.” He took a bow. “I’m the Ultimate Superhero. By day, I’m mild-mannered Hajime, a normal college student trying to figure out what my major will be. But by night, I develop incredible talents in every single field, and use my powers to bring hope to the entire world.”

“Ibuki detects a whiff of sarcasm in that!” The girl with the streaks in her hair remarked. “Dude, your tension is super high right now, are you feeling okay?”

“No!” Hajime replied, full volume, with a big smile frozen on his face. “That’ll do?”

Byakuya consulted his Hope Pad to confirm, nodding in satisfaction. “That’ll do. Now, anyone who hasn’t introduced themselves and their talents to him, do so now.”

It was astonishing what putting on the right voice and acting in a commanding manner could achieve. Nobody present even questioned that this rich fellow was ordering everyone around like his staff, rather than classmates he was on equal footing with. Even Hajime himself was grateful. It meant some element of order had come to absurdity. He concluded that Byakuya should yell at people more.

“Me first! I! Bu! Ki! Mio! Da! Put it together, and what do you get?!” There was a beat of dead silence, and then somewhere far in the distance, a seagull could be heard. “Ibuki Mioda! Ibuki is the Ultimate Musician!” Hajime noticed a detail he failed to during the panic; she had piercings, quite a few. Multiple spike earrings, and smaller studs beneath her mouth, and that was just what he saw. He had a feeling there could be more.

“While she doesn’t quite have the nationwide popularity of, say, Sayaka or Junko, she’s definitely higher on the prominence scale than Kaede. Just speaking about popularity and name recognition. If we want to measure things that way,” Nagito said, pondering.

While he said it softly, just to Hajime, Ibuki, halfway across the hotel’s courtyard, nodded. “Guitar! Guitars are the way of the future, brother! More people put their stock in heavy metal than the old classics, and that’s just the way it goes, baby!”

“She’s also super popular among high school girls, particularly. Lots of groupies. She left her old band due to creative differences, and Hope’s Peak scouted her. As you’ve noticed, her hearing is second to none. Kaede and her could both probably hear loud noises from clear across this island, provided their own surroundings are quiet enough.”

At that moment, the front gates to the hotel crashed open with a tremendous bang.

Kaede, Kaito, and Mukuro ran in together. Well, Kaito had clearly taken the lead, and most of the door, on his shoulder. He looked like he regretted the dynamic entry. Especially since it would have done just as well to, say, push on it lightly like Mahiru and Peko had done to get out.

Once they were in, though, Mukuro stepped forward, eyes sweeping the compound like a targeting sensor. She wasn’t empty-handed. Hajime spotted the gleam of metal in her hand. As she moved forward, he confirmed that she was indeed wielding a kitchen knife.

“Are you guys okay?!” Kaede called out. “I heard some really loud noise! Like, ‘the building was being demolished by robots’ loud! Is Usami planning something?”

_That's some hearing. Kaede's ears verge on a Quirk by this point._

“Mukuro said that taking out a few robots would really finish up her evening routine!” Kaito added. It was difficult to tell if that was legit, her attempting dry wit, or Kaito acting like a puroresu manager, trying to puff up his fighter as a real badass. Like that was even necessary.

Hajime broke down and started to laugh. He ascended to a new plane of reality, where things were all unreasonably funny. He weirded out his friends with how chill he was when explaining the situation, and how everything was okay, and there was, in fact, no need for panic.

Kaede even sternly questioned him to make sure that Nagito wasn’t ‘sharing’ anything with him. Whatever that meant.

There was no emergency, so the three of them took their leave, eager not to miss dinner. Kaito did end up being dragged by the ear, though, after he noticed Akane’s shirt.

“Next meeting’s at Central Island tomorrow morning, Hajime! Make sure to get plenty of rest!” The Ultimate Astronaut commanded, even as he was pulled away. “That’s an order!”

“Aye aye,” Hajime replied, snapping off a crisp salute as the gates to the Mirai Hotel closed.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Byakuya said, and heaved a great big sigh. “Nekomaru, go ahead.”

“Alright! Listen up, Hajime!” As if it was possible to miss the large man whose voice somehow exceeded the manly levels of his appearance. “I’m none other than Nekomaru Nidai! The Ultimate Team Manager! Don’t forget it as long as you live!”

“... Manager? Hajime echoed. “Not, like, Ultimate Street Fighter or anything like that?”

“Huh? Don’t be absuuuuurd!” Nekomaru proclaimed, stance wide and arms out as he yelled. “I’m not the type to take direct action, as much as to help others achieve their own goals. I mean, I wouldn’t be nearly good enough to even be on a sports team.” Said the giant, musclebound powerhouse who had fights that shook the foundation to relieve his boredom.

Sure.

“I think anybody would love to have you, man,” Kazuichi said, holding his arms behind his head casually.

“Ah, you’re just trying to spare my feeliiiiings! But there’s no neeeed! I have to be realistic about my own power, so that I can help develop it in others. Like Akane! She has the potential to one day surpass my own power level, but only if she doesn’t stray from the path!”

“... Oh, that was my cue. Name’s Akane Owari. Don’t take it personal, but I’m not likely to remember your name. I’m bad with those. Especially for guys who ain’t strong. Sorry.”

“Yeah. She still hasn’t really retained mine, even though we’ve been introduced three times,” Nagito said with a sigh.

“Dude, that’s got to be a pride-killer! That sucks, man!” Ibuki put in, making sure everyone could hear everything she said, and guess at what Nagito’s remark was. It was very evident that there was no such thing as a private conversation when Ibuki was around. “I can’t believe she won’t remember either of you!”

“It’s okay,” Hajime replied. “I’ll remember enough for both of us.”

Nothing about Akane could be called average or humdrum. She was exceptional in all respects. Right then, with her shirt soaking through and proving Byakuya’s claims entirely true, she was extra memorable. It was tough enough for Hajime’s eyes to make the long, treacherous trip, up thick, powerful legs and thighs, through the peaks and brown valleys, without that, and get all the way up to her eyes.

Although when his eyes finally got there, that was no disappointment, either. When she wasn’t in Battle Mode, Akane had an untamed, wild, natural beauty to her. Some girls made makeup work for them extremely well, like Junko. But there was something to be said for her lack-of-styling style.

“Okay, that should do it,” Nagito said, smiling. “See, Hajime? You were getting all worked up, but really, everyone’s okay. More or less. And I’m sure we can get along, once we get over this weird feeling-out period. Heck, we’ve got friends ready to help us in the other classes, too.”

“Hey, that reminds me,” Akane said, shouting across the pool. “Coach! You said after our battle, you’d show me. You promised!”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember!” Nekomaru laughed grandly. Everything he was and did was grand and huge, so it fit well. “Man, you’re still so eager, even though you can barely walk. But I’ll take good care of you. C’mon, like Byakuya said, let’s go back to my cabin together. And then I’ll show you until you really can’t walk.”

“We’ll see about that!”

Everyone else assembled in front of the entrance to the lobby, and watched the two athletic types walk off together towards the cabins.

Kazuichi needed a few moments to process the implications, but he got there eventually. “... Oh man. Hajime, Nagito. Do you think…?”

“No way,” Hajime sighed. “I mean, Akane seems like a free spirit, but one day? It’s not even been a full day since we woke up on Gopher Island. I don’t think they’d end up like that so quickly. Everyone’s still basically strangers.” There he went again, trying to apply logic to the situation.

“I guess,” Nagito agreed. “But we still end up casually chatting with each other like we’ve been friends for years. Weird.”

Byakuya shook his head. “Everyone, shut up. We’re not having a moment. Hajime, the rest of your classmates should all be in the lobby there, and upstairs in the dining and kitchen areas. Go take care of business. I’ll be up in the kitchen myself if you need anything. Helping to cook. A lot.”

Off Byakuya went, up a side set of stairs that ran up towards the building’s second floor directly. As with before, he moved with impressive dispatch getting up those steps. Hajime decided to take the longer path through the lobby. He could already see somebody in there. Nagito and Ibuki decided to tag along, trailing behind him to either side, while Kazuichi peeled off in the other direction.

“I’ll see you at dinner, guys! You’re probably right, but… I just gotta know! A little recon. Heh heh.”

“Just be careful, Kazuichi!” Nagito said. “If they catch you snooping as usual, we might not see you at all anymore!”

“A man’s gotta do, what a man’s gotta do,” Ibuki countered, nodding her head as she pointed to the cabins. Somehow, her nose also resembled that of a gremlin’s as she smirked mischievously. “I feel it deep in my soul.”

Thankfully, the lobby was also air-conditioned. Hajime felt the cool air wash over him, and let out a sigh he’d been holding in. Things were settling down to some degree. Although he was now face-to-face with another cute girl, so relaxing completely was impossible. Just as Mikan had a thing for purple, so did this girl, although it was more in the hoodie range. She did have purple hair, though, and eyes that matched.

She shared another trait with Mikan, as well. She was thick. Not tall. If anything, she was a touch shorter than the average. But wide to an unreasonable degree, such that even baggy clothing couldn’t hope to conceal it. Shortstack. Not just in the chest, but her entire figure was soft and pillowy. She was a living pillow. Which was perhaps appropriate, as the first thing she did was yawn in his face.

Hajime saw a little bubble appear from her nose, and was concerned she’d somehow found a way to fall asleep standing upright. She finally spoke. “Hello. You’re Hajime, correct?”

“That’s me,” He nodded. “Sorry we couldn’t meet earlier, but, uh. You know how it is.” Sometimes a stuffed rabbit who fucks with your head shines a magical flashlight into your soul and you collapse from the horrifying visions it induces.

“Yeah. I sometimes have sleep-attacks, too. Nice to meet you.”

Enough time passed that Hajime started to feel a little like Mahiru, which was a concerning thought. “I can’t remember my Ultimate Talent,” He said, having run up with creative and sarcastic ways to convey that. Or maybe he just felt calm in this girl’s presence. It was a different sort of peacefulness than Nagito’s, but in that way, the two started to become linked in his mind. Both were handling the stress of this new situation impressively well, unlike him.

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah. It’s really weird.”

“Yep.”

Fucking _what_ was this conversation, though?

Ibuki sidled over to Chiaki, and leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper. At full volume. Or maybe to Ibuki, a normal voice was whisper-quiet. Like Nagito said, everyone had their own way. “This is the part where you tell him your name, Chiaki.”

“Oh, right.” The girl tapped her chin for a second, staring off into space. “Yeah.” Another pregnant pause ensued. “My name is Chiaki Nanami. I’m known as the Ultimate Gamer, and I’m a fan of all genres.” She smiled at Hajime. It was unfair how cute that was. In fact, from a certain perspective, all her mannerisms were endearingly cute. When one wasn’t expecting a conversation to, say, advance, or have a point.

“... In fact, I was dunking Kazuichi into the core of the earth in Super Smash Brothers on the console over there, but he left before we could finish.”

Hajime glanced over, and saw the digital brawler locked in an odd stalemate. The game wasn’t actually paused, but both characters on screen just stood there, cycling through idle animations and looking very bored as they stared off. Without inputs from the people controlling them, neither could do anything. So there they stood, on a floating platform in the middle of the sky, while exciting music played. And nothing at all got accomplished.

He also spotted at the bottom of the screen that they were playing with ten lives apiece. Kazuichi had one, while Chiaki had ten. No wonder he decided literally anything else was more interesting than being in that lobby anymore.

“That’s what he gets for challenging the Ultimate Gamer,” Nagito said, shrugging. “Then again, that’s sort of his charm point, too. He just never gives up on some things. In a way, it’s very hopeful to see.”

That was certainly one way to approach it.

“Say, Chiaki,” Nagito continued. “I did some research on other Ultimates the Academy was recruiting before we all ended up here. Did you attend any, like, national championships or e-sports things? Card game tournaments on remote islands? Anything like that? I bet you could have taken home millions in prizes.”

“Hm. Nope. Nothing like that,” Chiaki replied, and then she fluff-drifted off to an actual arcade machine in the corner of the room.

“That’s her favorite,” Nagito said.

“Looks like.”

Well, that was the end of that social interaction. Good job, team.

With little else to do except watch Chiaki sit there immobile and stare at a screen, Hajime traveled up the stairwell to the second floor. He emerged onto the floor of an open-air restaurant. He looked around, marveling at how nice it was. It wasn’t built from extravagant materials, and while it was large and breezy, which implied its own kind of affluence to a person who grew up in Japan, it wasn’t outwardly ‘rich’. It just seemed like a perfectly fitting thing to have on a vacation resort.

It was a wide area, with nice wooden floors and stone support pillars. The walls in a normal room were removed on two sides, facing outwards, towards the brilliant blue waters of the ocean, and the mostly-clear blue sky. Some clouds had moved in since the morning, and Hajime could even see flecks of grey in there. The sun was still clearly visible, shining down on everything merrily.

Usami said storms just didn’t happen on the Gopher Islands. For whatever good her word actually was. Hajime sure wasn’t going to just-

“You see, it’s really tough for me right now. It’s… _hard_ to keep on going.”

“Oh my, that is quite regrettable.”

“I-Is there anything we can do to help?”

One of those voices was the gentle, stuttering, all too familiar nervous tone of the Ultimate Nurse. The other two were new. Hajime turned around, and on the far side of the restaurant, past tables and chairs and a nice potted fern plant, near the entrance to the kitchen, three Ultimates were gathered. Two girls; Mikan, and a blonde with long hair, very light, fair skin, and blue eyes, were speaking with a small, round man dressed in white, topped with a chef’s hat.

Hajime wondered what his Ultimate talent was.

Nagito’s mind was on something else. He took the lead, walking with purpose in his lanky strides. “Oh, no. Not again.”

“Well, ladies, I was going to try and bear it on my own, but if you want to help that much…”

“Certainly, good sir. You should not just cover up your problems, asking for help is much better.”

“Exactly! W-We may not have known each other very long, a-and I w-would never dare to call myself your friend, Mister Hanamura, but…”

“Ah, ah, ah.” The boy waved his finger, and then pressed it up towards Mikan’s lips. She turned red. “What did I say earlier? Just ‘Teruteru’ will do, for you ladies. I don’t want any fancy airs.” He said, throwing clear fancy airs in his voice. “Now, it’s quite simple. A snake bit my loins earlier, and they’re filling with poison. If somebody could just suck it out…”

That’s as far as that got, before Nagito’s hand landed on his shoulder. The small chef froze, tensed up, and then looked back over his shoulder. And he had to crane his neck pretty far up to see Nagito. He was looming over him with something that might have once resembled a smile frozen on his face. “Teruteru, a word please?”

“N-Nagito! I didn't see you there! S-Sure! Hahaha! Excuse me, ladies! We’ll have to talk more later! Um, Nagito, I can walk on my own…”

They both disappeared into the kitchen.

“Mister Hajime!” Mikan rushed over to Hajime’s side, pressing a hand to his forehead. After an intimate moment where they both stared at each other, she realized how forward that seemed, let out a high-pitched whine, and disengaged. “Oh! I’m sorry! It appears you’re up on your own, but, um. Once somebody is a patient of mine, it’s tough to remember my, um, place. Please forgive me for getting in your face like some savage animal…”

“Don’t worry,” Ibuki said, popping up on Mikan’s other side and startling the sheepish, mousy Ultimate Nurse. “Hajime’s way more savage than you are!”

Hajime looked at the new lady, who struck a sharp, bold-letter contrast to Ibuki and Mikan. A bright color scheme, with the hair, the skin, and a dress that was equal parts green and white. The green was a darker shade, which was apparently a super popular color among Ultimate Students. She had a bow on her hair, and carried herself upright, with great posture. Her hands were folded in front of herself. She favored him with a beautiful, calm smile.

“Good afternoon, sir. Our surroundings are truly beautiful, are they not?”

“There’s a lot of beauty to be found on these islands,” Hajime agreed, rubbing the back of his head. “Hajime Hinata, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh, suddenly he’s all meek, just because he meets Sonia!” Ibuki had the widest smug grin of all, and considering her competition among the other Ultimates, it was a feat. “I guess that’s an aura you and I can’t hope to compete with, Mikan! We’re not even in the same game as her!”

“Ehe… I suppose that’s true in many, many ways…”

The blonde took a curtsy and a bow, holding the edges of her dress as she did so. “I am also relieved that you have recovered. That incident outside was most alarming. However, now I may properly introduce myself. I am Sonia Nevermind, crown princess of the Kingdom of Novoselic. The Academy lists me as the Ultimate Princess.”

Oh, actual European royalty.

Okay.

Sure.

“Um, wow. Really?”

Aw yeah, that quick wit, coming to the surface once again when it counted the most.

Sonia gently giggled into her hand. “Your surprise is not surprising. I am an awful long way from home. I suppose that, given our current circumstances, we all are. This is certainly an interesting approach to higher education. So many of your Japanese customs are so novel and quaint to me. And fascinating.”

‘This isn’t really a custom anywhere in the world,” Hajime replied, finding an actual, natural smile coming to his face. “It’s weird for us too. But hopefully, if we work together, we can figure things out, and all get back home.”

“Well said, good sir! I am honored to offer whatever assistance I can to your cause! Nagito was speaking of your ‘crew’ earlier. Perhaps in the ‘hood’, as they say.” They did not say that. “If you wish my blessing, I shall give it! In fact, I shall extol your virtues to the others!” She held out a hand towards him, proclaiming this in such a powerful manner that, before Hajime knew it, he was dropping to one knee.

Ibuki nearly died of laugher, rolling around on the floor. Mikan, concerned she too had gotten a stroke, was trying to catch her. The sheer absurdity of the scene helped Hajime relax a little, and get back on his feet. His cheeks were still warm, though. “Everyone will really appreciate the help. Um, Your Highness.”

“Please! I am an Ultimate in training, just the same as you, and all our compatriots! You need not address me by any title, other than the most natural one.”

“Sure. Uh, Sonia.”

‘There! Excellent! Jolly good!”

Was she from Europe, or the eighteenth century? Didn’t matter. Because she was friendly. In fact, the three girls in the restaurant were some of the nicest ones on the entire island from what he could tell. Certainly, in Class 2, they were probably his shining hopes, along with Chiaki downstairs, of not ripping out all his hair.

He wanted to stay with them and just talk. Maybe hang out, get to know them. But one of the guys in the kitchen had something he needed. It definitely wasn’t Nagito, either, because he wasn’t on Hajime’s mind even a bit. It was that Teruteru guy. Hajime excused himself from the girls, and went into the elaborate, shiny kitchen. Plenty of impressive appliances and devices he didn't understand appeared before his eyes. Along with rows of stainless steel furnaces, ovens, and stoves. And a truly massive fridge, in which Byakuya could have comfortably hidden.

In fact, he was almost trying to do just that, with how far he was leaning into it. Gathering up ingredients to help, no doubt. Usami was right, this place was stocked with everything that, say, a cooking-oriented Ultimate student would need to whip up some first-class dishes.

Which were sitting on the table. Meat, bread, fish. Of all kinds. Prepared all ways. Chopped, boiled, broiled, deep-fried, cooked well, rare… Running on a single energy bar Mahiru had been nice enough to spare him, and nothing else all day, Hajime had to contain the urge to drool. Instead, he refocused, with great effort, on the other two guys, in a corner of the kitchen. Nagito had literally cornered the much smaller man, and was speaking in a calm, low, steady voice to him.

The expression in those beady eyes was terror.

When Teruteru spotted Hajime, he said, “Uh, look, Nagito! Hajime’s here for the Hope Fragment I got! Thas’ real important and hopeful, yeah? So it’s super important, yep! Aw yeah!” And when he realized his accent was slipping seriously southern, he coughed, and said, “Um, I mean, I should really go, you know.”

“Go ahead,” Nagito said, relenting and letting him pass. “Just remember what I said, Teruteru. Do you think I’m the kinda guy who messes around?”

“Definitely not,” Teruteru replied, laughing in a manner that implied no mirth.

“So remember. The next time you try and hassle a woman, or take advantage of her like that, you’ll be the one going into the deep fryer.” Nagito smiled. “Don’t forget.”

“Ah sure won’t, boss!” Teruteru said, and then ran across the kitchen to greet Hajime. “Ahem. Hey there, buddy. How’re you doing? Recovered from your little accident earlier?”

Hajime nodded. “Yeah, I think the flashback light did something weird to me. Well, duh. But unless Usami shows up with another one, I think I’m fine. How about you? Uh, are you doing okay?”

“I’m spectacular. As you can see, I’m just finishing up dinner for everyone, which makes me a super valuable member of the team we’ve got going. And not somebody to kick out, beat up, or put into a deep-fryer, just for, you know, making some jokes. Some harmless jokes, right? Friends kid around all the time.” To cover his nervousness, Teruteru produced a comb and pulled back his brown hair.

“Right,” Hajime said. “Nice to meet you, Teruteru…?”

“Ah ha. My full name is Teruteru Hanamura, mister. On the streets, they call me the Ultimate Cook. But if you would, please refer to me instead as… the Ultimate Chef. I think that has a way better big-city flavor, non?”

“Sure. Honestly, Teruteru, compared to some of the other guys I’ve met today, you’re barely halfway up the weird chart.” It wasn’t like a horny college guy trying to take advantage of a situation was anything new or groundbreaking, or some shocking thing. That didn’t mean Hajime wasn’t disgusted, though, and it probably showed through on his face.

“Look, like I said to Nagito here, it’s all just in good fun! I mean, you know, they totally breed princesses to lack any common sense, so even that kind of simple trickery would totally, like, work. And Mikan is such a cinnamon roll, she just wants to help with anything you might ask, as long as you agree not to hate on her. I emphasize _anything_.”

“Yeah, that’s really funny,” Hajime lied, seeking an end to this conversation with all due haste.

No dice. “Whereas, just for instance, I bet that Ultimate Soldier girl your friends hang out with acts like a badass, but she must have some plain cotton white panties on under that skirt, right? A total softie, just like her sister was saying.”

“I strongly doubt…” Hajime realized the sort of conversation he was about to get drawn into, and felt shame deep within himself. “Look. If you want to talk about that stuff, I get the feeling Ibuki would be more than willing to accomodate you.”

Teruteru scrunched up his face, which sure didn’t do anything for his chances in a beauty pageant. “Everyone’s got their own preferences, Mister Hajime, but eh. Definitely not for me. She’s a little too… active. Eager for it. You know? Takes all the thrill out, kind of a turn-off.”

Hajime rubbed his forehead with a palm. “Yeah, agency’s a big turnoff for me, too. Nothing worse than a girl who gets out of her place.”

“I know, right?!”

Hajime turned bodily away from the Ultimate Cook. “Nagito, where the hell do you think the last Ultimate is?”

“Well, we’ve been everywhere in the hotel complex but the old building. She’s probably playing in there.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nagito shrugged. “Go check it out. If she’s not there, we’ll form some search parties to track her down. Again. She’s also what you call a free spirit, in a way. You’ll see.” Nagito let out a sigh, and then reached over towards an open box of bagels on one of the kitchen counters. “You’ll definitely just have to see this one for yourself, or you won’t believe it.”

That filled Hajime with nothing but hope and confidence. He proceeded, alone, down the side stairwell from the restaurant, and across the hotel grounds towards the old wooden building. It wasn’t much of a walk, but it gave him a chance to admire how much of a worn-down ruin it was. Bits were falling off. The exterior, with a little crayon sign marking UNDER RENOVATION, didn’t really tell the whole story, though. As he peeked into the front door and the building’s lobby, he was hit with a wave of musty, stale air, like he’d unsealed a crypt.

Light levels were minimal. Opening the door seemed like he was driving back a wave of darkness. It was difficult to imagine anybody deciding this was a fun place to hang out. Much less what his Hope Pad was telling him, which indicated that he was looking for that little blonde girl who’d been playing in the grass earlier during Usami’s meeting. The only nature in there was some crawling things that skittered away from the light, and his footsteps, as he walked forward over creaky old floorboards.

“Hello?” He called out. “Anybody here?”

He walked down winding hallways. All the windows had been boarded up, ensuring no light could get in, and nobody could escape to the outside for some reason. He hit a button, and set his Hope Pad to maximum brightness setting, which functioned well enough as a short-range flashlight. “Hello? Anyone?”

“Hi, mister!”

Hajime actually, physically jumped. It certainly felt like his spirit was thrown clear of his body. Like an unwise driver who didn’t buckle their seat belt, only to get into a collision and go straight through the windshield. His heart raced. He wheeled around to the source of the voice, to spot the little girl.

Who, in her orange kimono fitted for a young frame, looked just adorable. Save for, of course, the blood on the sleeves, and dripping from her hands… and a knife, which was absolutely coated in awful pink.

“What the fuck?!”

“Huuh? What kind of a greeting is that, anyway?” The girl asked, boring into his eyes with her own, whose intense honey-gold stare seemed to look right through him. Hajime raised his hands, and took a step backwards, only to hit a boarded-up window and nearly drop his Hope Pad. The hallway wouldn’t have been pitched into utter darkness, even if he bumped it off, because the girl had her own out, and was using it in a similar fashion.

Yet, he still clung to the light, as if hoping to drive her away with it.

“Well?”

‘Well what?! What the hell is with that knife? What’s with all the… the… blood?!”

“Huh? Oh, riight. Sorry!” Without a care in the world, the girl reached down, and used the long, droopy orange sleeve of her kimono to wipe the blood from her knife’s blade. “It’s just, I found a Mister Rabbit while I was exploring in here, so I figured, hey. Maybe we could totally use it for dinner.”

Then she revealed what she was holding behind her back. A very dead, recently killed, still fresh and quite bloody rabbit. Pink droplets dripped onto the old floorboards, and formed a trail leading deeper into the old building. Hajime stared, frozen. Nothing about this scene made any sense.

“Excuse me! I believe that would be Mister Hajime and Miss Saionji in there? Ahem.” Usami, of all entities, waddled in from the lobby, emitting a great light from her Magic Stick that illuminated everything as bright as the daytime sunlight outside. When the stuffed rabbit saw the real, very dead one, though, she screamed. “Eeeek! Oh no!” After a moment, she considered. “Oh wait, I’m not an actual real rabbit, so I’m probably not next! Oho. What a relief.”

Hajime now had something else to stare at, which at least meant he didn’t have to see all that fucking blood.

Hiyoko shook her head. “Tch. Hello, ‘Professor’. Can we, like, help you? We’re totally in the middle of an awesome introduction scene. Hee hee, I planned it all out. And you sure didn’t disappoint… _you fucking wuss_.”

“Um, well. I just… wait! Extreme violence is prohibited on this island! That’s not just towards people, either, but animals! This could disturb the balance of nature for everything, this wanton slaughter!”

‘Tch. I was gonna use what I killed, so it’s not really wanton. Well, I was gonna get that fucking perverted molester Ultimate Cook to do it. Aaaanyway, Hinata Hajime, right? You don’t have a talent, right?”

“I don’t remember my talent,” Hajime replied forcefully, turning to stand his ground, even though he had nothing in his hand, and the girl had a dead body, and the knife that made it, still held up at him. His heart was still thundering, and he was tensed up for anything.

“Well, whatever. Nice to, like, meet you. My name’s Hiyoko Saionji, and I’m the Ultimate Traditional Dancer. You look like the kind of guy who’d love to see some of my performances. Even if you’d angrily deny to your friends that you want to look at a little girl moving her body.”

“What?”

“You’re hardly the first. You don’t need to feel bad about that kind of niche. That’s basically most of my fanbase. Older guys. Plus, I’m almost as old as you, anyhow, I just look this way because of my condition.”

“Oh, I see.” Actually, Hajime had about forty questions, but didn’t feel in much of a conversational mood. “Usami, what do you want? Look, all of Class 2 has exchanged Hope Fragments now. We’re all very hopeful. And a little bloody.”

“Um, that first part is why I came to see you all,” Usami replied, clearly every bit as freaked out by the blood and the knife and the dead creature as Hajime was.

Well, those were the outward emotions she exhibited. Usami was really a stuffed animal robot thing, being controlled somewhere else, by somebody, making it emote in such a manner.

Hajime had to keep that in mind, or he’d find her antics cute.

“Class 2 is the first class to mutually exchange their first Hope Fragments, since 1 and 53 both have… anti-social elements who are being a little grumpy-wumpy. That being the case, I made a prize for Class 2! Behold!” Usami presented a stylized keychain of herself in a sprite-based, pixel-imitating chibi art style, holding it in the paw that didn’t have her Magic Stick lighting the way. “I made one of these for everyone, based on their icons on the mailboxes!”

What a stunningly awkward situation.

Honestly, it was a sweet gesture, now was just really not the time.

“D-Do you guys like it?” Usami asked, shuffling her feet.

Hiyoko looked like she was about to speak her mind, and all evidence Hajime had indicated that would be a bad thing. So he shot first. “It looks great, Usami. Maybe you could put these all in everyone’s rooms during dinner, so they’ll have a surprise to come back to? I’m sure they’ll love it.” Deep down in Hajime’s soul, he thought many of them would spurn the keychain charms. But most of him didn’t even see it or operate on that level. He was too busy dealing with whatever this apparent little blonde kid _was_.

Hiyoko waved the now much cleaner knife through the air. She twirled it and cut lazy arcs through visible dust clouds.

“Oh! That’s a marvelous idea, Hajime. Thank you. And! I had another thing, an announcement that you probably missed, given that this old building doesn’t have any power. After each class has dinner, I would like for you all to assemble at Tranquility Beach. I have a wonderful surprise for you all! I think you’re all going to love it.”

Hajime nodded. “Got it. Tranquility Beach, after dinner. Speaking of which, they might be ready to start in the restaurant, Hiyoko. And we need to return that knife to the kitchen.”

Hiyoko pouted, but did not resist Hajime’s efforts to secure the knife. “Fiiine.” She wasn’t able to keep the dead rabbit, either, as Usami insisted on disposing of it, and cleaning off the blood, with a magic spell.

In a flash of blinding light, all of that terrible pink, and the body itself, vanished. Hiyoko’s sleeves and the knife itself were utterly devoid of blood that hadn’t even dried yet, swept off in an instant. By actual, literal magic.

“There we go, fresh and clean. All that savagery and violence is not welcome in my school environment!”

Hajime’s head hurt, and he needed food badly. So his reaction amounted to the tenth ‘yeah, sure, why not’ of the day, as he led the way back out of the Old Building.

Hiyoko danced about in his wake, happy as could be, and eager to ask him questions about himself that he had no interest, and often no ability, to answer. She didn’t seem to believe that he just up and forgot his Ultimate talent, suggesting perhaps he could be hiding it.

“Well, it’s like Byakuya said earlier. There’s no way to verify if any of us in the Amnesia Brigade are telling the truth about it, or lying. So for now, you may as well take me at my word.”

Hajime couldn’t help but notice, on the short walk back to the staircase that led to the restaurant, that the clouds were thicker. It was far off in the distance, but they were definitely gathering.

When they arrived on the second floor, Nagito was doing an amazing job balancing two enormous roasted chicken platters, one in each hand, and taking them from the kitchen area to the great long table. When asked if he wanted help setting out all that stuff, he waved it all off, insisting everyone else sit down and relax. “Somebody like me is most suited for this kinda stuff, all the real Ultimates should sit and enjoy.”

Hajime might have been inclined to argue, and volunteer to share the load. If he wasn’t dying of hunger.

Other Ultimates filtered in, expressed their awe at the growing pile of dishes on the table. Freely-flowing drinks were provided in nice crystal glasses, of any type the students desired, save for alcohol. Teruteru had planned to serve that, but Usami whisked all of it away before his eyes, causing the chef to break down in tears. At least they had tea, coffee, water, and a variety of popular soda brands all available.

Considering they were elsewhere on the island, Peko and Mahiru didn’t arrive until the meal was all laid out for everyone. Mahiru immediately got her camera ready to go, and began taking pictures of her new classmates, and the amazing spread laid out before them, talking about making memories and capturing their first day together.

Even Hajime managed something like a smile for the camera, with his face absolutely stuffed full of roast beast. Normally, he couldn’t stand that in the least, but two extreme factors skewed his taste buds in that direction. The dishes were prepared by the Ultimate Cook, who in spite of profound personal failings, was in fact, the Ultimate Cook. And Hajime was a man dying of thirst in the desert who just stumbled upon an oasis of pure, clear water.

He felt like a black hole. He was a void, and he could never be filled. But he was damned if he wasn’t going to try his best anyway. Byakuya and Akane seemed to share his sentiments, and also looked to be racing each other to see who could consume more, faster.

Peko took a headcount, and realized they were missing two guys, the ones still holed up in their cabins. “I’ll go retrieve them,” She volunteered.

Not surprisingly, at all, Gundham and Fuyuhiko arrived promptly thereafter, marching ahead of Peko, who watched them take their seats and start loading up plates. She finally sat down herself, setting her bokken aside and going all-out.

Nagito took a seat on one side of Hajime and, compared to his friend, merely pecked at his own food. On the other side, due to the lack of any available seating, Gundham settled in. Hajime and him shared a moment of awkward silence.

“Gundham,” Hajime said. “We got off on the wrong foot, earlier. Both of us were a little prickly, so let’s just forget all that and do our best, alright? We’re all in this together.”

“Hm? Did something happen earlier to which you allude? I didn’t notice anything significant. However, my perspective is so much grander than that of any foolish human, so I may have missed some minor things while engaged in my search for the eternal power of the gods.”

“Guess so.” Hajime smiled into his latest slice of roast beast so Gundham wouldn’t see it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the Devas emerge from that scarf, grab a bit of cheese from Gundham’s plate, and chow down without a single care or worry in the world.

The dinner was fantastic. Hajime regretted that he missed lunch even more, as Teruteru sat at the head of the table, and humble-bragged about how he felt this one didn’t quite match up to the standard set by lunch. Ibuki vigorously disagreed, which nearly turned into a food fight. Fortunately, a single word from Byakuya got her to “sit”, in a manner that reminded Hajime of an eager, energetic dog and its grumpy owner.

Even the punk rock icon listened when he spoke. Actually, she listened quite keenly, and doggedly tried to engage the scion in conversation, until he had no choice but to give in and talk with her.

Everyone got along, because the dinner was great, and they got to enjoy it. There was relatively minimal small-talk, but even Fuyuhiko across from Hajime couldn’t help but enjoy and let down his guard. If Hajime didn’t know better, he’d call the guy cute. Much like Hiyoko, who delighted in shoveling down an amazing array of dishes and sides. Well, she did move around constantly, for a living, and apparently as personal habit. On the opposite end, though, Chiaki, seated next to Fuyuhiko and seeming not to care that he was literally a mob boss, shoveled just as much down. She probably wasn’t burning off much of that through athletic endeavors. The Ultimate Gamer wasn’t a title that implied working out.

What was Hajime’s Ultimate title? What affect did it have on his life? What was the talent that got him into Hope’s Peak? Once again, as always, his thoughts circled around there, and he shook his head to clear it. Tomorrow morning, he, and the rest of the crew, could worry about all the mysteries still facing them down. Tonight, maybe, just maybe, he could find himself chilling out, even among all these eccentric, larger-than-life personalities.

Exhausted from the whirlwind of a day, he found himself leaning against Nagito quite a bit, but the white-haired boy didn’t seem to mind.

“Wonder what Usami’s got planned next,” Kazuichi said. “Ooh. Maybe it really is just a beach party? That could be cool. I mean, we are on a friggin’ tropical island. Maybe she got swimsuits for all the girls! Ooh, especially Miss Sonia over there, eh Hajime?~”

“Weren’t you obsessed with Kaede earlier?”

“Tch. Can a Piano Freak really compare to a real, natural-bred European Princess? Just look at her, man!”

As if Hajime needed to be told to do that. There was a limit, even to the absurd, even here on Gopher Island. “I guess since you developed that crush over the course of a single day, abandoning it just as fast only makes sense. You never fail to amaze, man.”

“Hey, thanks! I appreciate that.”

“Nagito, help…”

Before Hajime knew it, he was shambling around, helping Peko and Nagito collect stacks of dishes and glasses. Compared to their grace and skill, he stumbled and bumbled along, and actually ended up breaking a used dish on the kitchen floor. After which, a gravely offended Teruteru ordered him out, to go ahead to the beach with the others to check out whatever was going on.

First Island wasn’t gigantic, but the walk was a good few minutes of going down the path. He consulted his enclosed instruction book, or rather, digital map on his Hope Pad, to make it past the other hotels, before he arrived at Tranquility Beach. Just in time to see Usami appear, floating down from partially cloudy sky. At least there was still plenty of light left in the day.

In a place like this, the sun was almost always shining, days were long, and nights would be relatively short.

Hajime also noticed a number of large robots stomping about, although they quickly began to clear out before most of the other students filed into the area. The beach was large, flat, and full of gorgeous white sand, beach chairs and parasols, and even a thatched-roof concession stand, where a copy of Usami was giving out ice cream. It had everything Hajime expected of a public beach, even shower stalls and changing booth areas to one side.

Kaito, who appeared by smacking him on the back as fucking hard as he could and saying he was glad Hajime recovered, pointed out, “Most of this stuff wasn’t here earlier when we scouted out the beach. Usami must have had the robots build it for us. Not bad, huh?”

“Yeah, they work quickly.” The things looked more apt to shoot a laser at Hajime than build buildings, but the proof was right before his eyes. Plus, all the other construction work he’d seen, to try and tame what seemed like a long-deserted island overrun by nature. It all fit together somehow, and offered some clue about the truth.

Hajime was done thinking about anything, though. He was ready to just sit back, and listen to Usami probably prattle on about, like, hope, for a while. What he wasn’t ready for was to have Kazuichi proven right.

“Everyone, I have an announcement, now that almost everybody has arrived!” Usami proclaimed.

“Yeah, we figured that much already,” That biker guy from Class 1 yelled from the gallery, provoking a wave of laughter among the Ultimates. “Kinda the whole fuckin’ point.”

A completely different vibe than the morning’s gathering, and the tension and uncertainty blanketing everyone then. Was Hajime and the crew really the only ones who still weren’t sure about this whole deal?

“I suppose so. Well, in any case, it’s time for me to give you all your first motive.”

Everyone stared.

“Motive to do what?” Kaede asked, jogging up to join the rest of the crew, which was gathering together in the middle of the crowd and looking towards Usami, who stood framed by the gentle crash of waves on the beach.

“To get along, of course! That is why we’re here. And until the construction work progresses further, it’s really our primary goal. To relax and get along, and nurture hope in this tropical paradise.”

Finally, Hajime had to ask, “Alright, then. What’s the motive?”

“A beach party!”

“Aww yeah!” Kazuichi proclaimed, proving that he hadn’t been caught, and thus was still alive, in the back of the group.

“Oh no! I forgot to pack my swiiiiimsuiiiit!” Nekomaru proclaimed in panic. What he might have intended as an honest exclamation was taken for another joke by the assembled Ultimates, and laughs rolled down the beach.

“Worry not, for Professor Usami has thought of everything! Behold!” She produced a large case, and cracked it open, to reveal the contents for all to see. “Enough swimwear for everyone!” The case contained folded-up white swimming trunks and athletic-style leotards, in a variety of shapes and sizes. While the leotards featured some cute frills like Usami’s outfit, the trunks were mercifully devoid of the same. “Plus, I’m sure some of my students have already checked out the supermarket and may have picked out some more personalized items to wear. By all means, feel free to equip those, as well. Or of course, to wear your normal clothes if that makes you more comfortable. But if you need swimsuits, come and get them! And have fun!”

“Plus, most importantly, this will afford those less-social members of our classes a chance to meet and greet with everybody in a friendly environment,” Usami said, casting looks towards certain people in particular. “Once every Ultimate has gained the first Hope Fragments, then the Second Island will unlock. And with it, new territory to explore. New fun to have in cool locations! All thanks to your wonderful Professor Usami! May shining hope be with you all!”

The original six members of Kaede’s group drifted together, even as the crowd as a whole broke up. Some headed back inland, others out to the beach, and some went to check out the case and pick out some items. Kaede smiled at her friends, and said, “Alright. So, what’s the plan, guys?”

Komaeda shrugged. “Have fun, and stop worrying ourselves to death? Just for tonight?”

Much to Kaede’s surprise, Hajime was quick to second that motion. Everyone else nodded. It was unanimous. “Alright, then. Who am I to argue? And Shuichi, you’d better get those Fragments!”

“R-Right.” Shuichi tugged his hat further down over his face, and blushed.

Sayaka clapped happily. “I wasn’t expecting such a good chance to try out that swimsuit I got earlier. I hope you’re ready, Makoto~” The look on the lucky bastard’s face indicated he was very not-ready.

The **Ultimate Beach Party** had begun.


	6. 0-6. The Ultimate Beach Party I (Shuichi)

Some people dove right in, and made a big splash.

Other people dipped their toes, found the water just right, and slid in.

Even people who didn’t want to go into the water ended up sticking around.

Shuichi Saihara, supposedly the Ultimate Detective, was different. He was thrown in bodily.

Not literally. That would have been far preferable to what did happen, which was him being grabbed by either arm, and taken off by Kaito and Kaede to the changing stalls. Like he was a prisoner waiting his sentence.

He was presented with a pair of white swim trunks, and Kaede’s pouty glare. That’s exactly what Shuichi was, a prisoner with no escape.

Copies of Usami were around the changing areas, providing duffel bags for clothing, and being obtrusive, but helpful. It was nice to have a place to store his normal outfit. He left his jacket, pants, shoes, and socks all behind in his bag, in the charge of an Usami, who promised to return it to his cabin.

The one item he refused absolutely to part with, save for going into the bath, was the black hat. That stayed right where it belonged on top of his head. When Usami asked him about it, she got a stern glare.

It was _not_ up for discussion.

Usami’s helpfulness did raise many questions in Shuichi’s overworked mind. He had been going like a computer all day. Kaede told him to stop pondering the unfathomable for at least a little bit, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like being a living analysis engine was something that he could just switch off. Or maybe he wouldn’t be such an unbalanced person that they wrongly called him an Ultimate.

All for happening to stumble into the solution to a case when he was in middle school.

How many Usami units were there? Where were they made, stored, and maintained? In the morning Miu mentioned those issues in regards to the larger machines. That was an even more pertinent question. The crew had seen nothing like a hangar or factory. Obviously, he had to assume that the people running this whole operation had access to every island whenever they pleased. So that was that. Although, if he could keep count and figure out the number of Usamis and robots, he’d figure out how many drone operators could do things simultaneously before the group holding them on this island were taxed.

Critical information, should things go south.

“Shuichi? Are you ready in there?” Kaede asked through the stall door. “Are you thinking again?!”

“No! I promise,” Shuichi replied, letting out a deep sigh into his hand. He had another mission today, one given to him by his ‘leaders’ directly. One he should be focusing on. Revealing himself to be a pasty, ghostly-pale, thin, lanky guy with that swimwear was only the beginning. “... So, how do I look?”

“Great, actually,” Kaede said, eyeing him up, and down. Her purple eyes didn’t miss one detail, and took long enough that Shuichi looked to Kaito for help. Of which he got none.

“Just like I expected, Shuichi! You’ve gotta work out more. A guy shouldn’t be ‘slender’,” Kaito said, shaking his head. “We’ll get on that later, though. Really, you’ll live. I promise. Now, for the other two members of your squad. _Moogs!_ How’s it going?”

“Please don’t make that a thing,” The Ultimate Cosplayer replied, standing in front of the adjacent stall to the right.

In an astonishingly distracting, and revealing, blue slingshot bikini that almost perfectly matched the shade of her eyes and hair. If she cared at all about people seeing her with so much fair skin and so many of her soft, ample curves exposed, she didn’t show it. Her behavior was exactly as Shuichi had come to expect, vaguely distant, bored, and softly trying to hide her exasperation with everyone else.

She had a hand on her bare, wide hip. “Chihiro wouldn’t let me come in. I’ve plainly done all I can to furnish some suitable costumes for her build and personality. She’s trying them on now.”

“ _Junko!_ How about you?” Kaito asked to the stall on the left side of Shuichi’s.

_“This one’s pretty tricky, I’ll admit. And surprisingly strong for a nurse. But don’t you worry. I’ve handled some seriously tough cases before. I mean, like, have you seen Mookie? She’d be wearing pants without my- Hey! Hold still, you!”_

Mikan’s high-pitched whine was concerning. As was Mukuro, leaning against the eroded, partially decayed brick wall next to the changing area that marked the edge of the beachfront. Her icy blue gaze was fixed on the stall where Junko was busy assaulting a girl in the name of fashion. Shuichi had to admit, if somebody ‘wore the pants’, he’d expect it to be the Ultimate Soldier. Junko clearly did, instead. Metaphorically. In literal terms, pants, and fully covering clothing in general, was becoming scarce.

Mukuro herself had a grey-black-white urban digital camouflage pattern hoodie, pulled over a two-piece bikini of a similar theme. With her arms folded and the hoodie drawn around her, little could be seen, save for long, bare legs, and the occasional flash of rock-hard abs. Even if Junko hadn’t implied it, it was clear who coordinated her outfit.

Not that he was staring.

“Okay, Shuichi. You’ll take point on this operation, because I know you can be trusted to get it done at any cost.” Kaito grabbed his shoulder. “It’s your job to get yourself, and those two ladies, met with every single person you haven’t yet. Get those Fragments, but don’t let any of the rough types harass the girls. It’s your job to keep them safe. Got it?”

Shuichi stared at him, and then adjusted his hat. “I’m not allowed to say no, so I’ll do it somehow. I guess.”

“That’s the spirit! Failure is not an option!”

Junko clearly heard Kaito in the stall. Even over Mikan. _“If that’s all you need, I could send Mookie along! She’s definitely used to the bodyguard thing.”_

Mukuro nodded. “Junko’s fans can get over-zealous.”

“Appreciate it, ladies. But Shuichi’s gotta get this done on his own. It’s so that he’ll believe in himself, and his leadership ability. We’re gonna need him confident and motivated if he’s gonna crack this case wide open, and get us out of here!”

That made half a dozen unsupportable assumptions.

The primary one being that leaving the island was even what they wanted. If what Hajime and Rantaro said about the Ultimate Hunt was accurate, Gopher Island could have been their only refuge. What Shuichi would have given to see that vision himself.

The only thing he saw was everybody assembled in a classroom.

“So! This is step one of the Shuichi Development Initiative!”

“I can’t deny that he could do with some character development,” Tsumugi agreed. “In fact, he’d be great for it, given we’ve got such a weak base to start out with.”

“Hey!” Kaede objected.

“No, it’s fine,” Shuichi said, placating the Pianist passively.

“If only his hair stood up like yours, Kaede, he’d be in contention for main character status. Think, like, Makoto, or Hajime.”

Kaito glanced over the beach, didn’t see either, and shook his head. “Is hair sticking up really that important?”

“Oh, believe me. It totally is, that ahoge look is in. Just watch how many guys look at Kaede when they think nobody’s looking.”

Shuichi glanced over at the group’s other leader, who was mercifully still in her normal clothes. She rolled her eyes. Even if she felt the same way about Kaito’s tendency to give speeches, and Tsumugi’s reference-based kernels of wisdom, Kaede still wasn’t likely to let him off the hook. “Kaito’s not wrong, Shuichi. You’d be a pretty cool guy if you were just more confident in yourself.” A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and she shuffled some sand beneath her feet. “Ah, I guess I’d better go get changed, too. I’d be a real jerk if I made all my people do something I wouldn’t, right?” The Ultimate Pianist took the changing booth he was in, and another Usami rushed in underfoot.

“Okay! Ready!” Junko proclaimed, bursting open the changing room door to the left. This revealed both herself, and a cowering, meek Mikan, who was dragged by a heavily-bandaged arm out into the merciless sunlight.

They both made quite a sight, side by side. In dramatically different ways.

Junko was definitely the more ‘traditionally attractive’, in that shape sought after for supermodels. Being a supermodel probably helped that. Or rather, her being that way helped it. With Ultimate talents and the way they forged a person, a chicken-and-egg question soon appeared.

Her chest was large, that much was very clear. Tsumugi’s decision to wear a sling got more interesting when Shuichi saw that Junko wore the same thing, except the glorified V of fabric that was the entire outfit was red and white. The rest of her body was thin, trim, and slimmed down. She had long limbs, toned legs, and a flat stomach, lacking Mukuro’s marble-statue definition. She was fairly tall, and a pair of wooden sandals helped that. It was a stunning, simple composition, and one that let the wearer present herself in a bold manner, leaving nearly no detail at all to the imagination.

For instance, Shuichi’s analytical mind immediately told him, whether or not he wanted to know, that Junko shaved religiously down there. If she didn’t, pink fuzz would have been apparent.

Like how just the tiniest bit of blue peeked out with Tsumugi. Her attempt to copy Junko, which was what he theorized the matching outfits represented, was a slightly imperfect effort. Although one that was still stunningly beautiful.

That was the sort of finding that Shuichi would never say. It made him sound like he was staring at that particular place for long enough to notice such a tiny detail, that a glance would scan over and miss. That wasn’t true, he was just really good at picking apart the details, and noticing things.

A talent that made things very awkward with so many pretty girls all around. Where was he even supposed to put his eyes? What else was he supposed to think about? Murder case files he read so often that, if asked to, he could have done a copycat crime for on the spot?

It occurred to the so-called Ultimate Detective that _maybe_ he did, in fact, need to get out more.

On the other hand, Mikan looked like she wanted nothing so badly in that moment but to crawl beneath a massive rock, or into a cave, or just to die on the spot. She was nearly doubled-over trying to hide herself, and based on how Junko was dressed, Shuichi expected some tiny, explicit number stretched across her more healthy figure. However, she sported a one-piece that looked more like a leotard with some bits cut out around the stomach and back. It carried on with her love of the colors purple and white. The composition fit well with the bandages still around her forearms, too, presumably a fashion statement. Hopefully they were waterproof.

More modest than anticipated. Her curves still made the outfit a sight to behold as the material stretched and strained. Mikan, like Tsumugi, was what could be called ‘full-bodied’, or even ‘plump’. It was difficult to be precise and use actual numbers, as Shuichi’s brain liked, because somehow he felt even more guilty reducing them to those.

He did his best not to stare at the delights on offer, fiddling with his hat until he realized Junko was asking him for feedback. “Um. I, uh, don’t really know fashion.”

“Shuichi, don’t be a cuck,” Junko said, shaking her head with a sigh.

“A what?”

“You think Mikan looks nice, right? And if you do have any complaints, try to keep in mind I was working from the contents of a supermarket’s afterthought of a selection.”

“I think Mikan’s not the issue here, Junko,” Tsumugi said, tapping her chin. “Shuichi plainly thinks staring at us is rude.”

“For reals? Shuichi, is that true?”

“Something like that,” he admitted. “They’re very revealing.”

“Revealing is a good word for it,” Tsumugi said. “Shuichi, we wear this sort of stuff to be seen. It’s not like underwear, which can be a super private thing. Swimwear is usually meant for the beach, which means it’s meant for people. I promise, neither of us will be offended if you look at the thing we set up for people to look at.”

“Guilt tripping yourself when there's no reason to feel guilty about anything, huh? If you assume everyone views the world the same way you do, Shuichi, you’re going to be a way bigger bore than I expected,” Junko said, inspecting her immaculately done and painted nails.

Whether or not she meant to crush the allegedly Ultimate Detective was irrelevant. It’s what happened. Shuichi pulled down on the hat until it covered most of his ears. Maybe they had a point, though. Did he really have to feel bad if-

“Hahahaha! If you can get the blood pumping in a little beta twink like Pooichi, then that’s real high praise, girls!”

Oh no.

Miu.

Shuichi decided, whatever happened, he would absolutely not turn around. If Junko and Tsumugi were like that, then he had no way to predict what Miu would, or would not, be wearing. No, that wasn’t accurate. Her personality and behavior gave him all the clues he needed. Shuichi started out very pale, but now his skin tone was ‘entirely red’. “In all seriousness, you both, well. All three of you look amazing.”

“Well, duh,” Junko said, twirling her hair. “Chihiro! Are you done in there, sweetie?”

_“A-A-Almost!”_

“Okaay. If you’re not out of there in ninety seconds, I’m coming in to help~”

Shuichi counted. Seventeen seconds later, Chihiro came out of the changing stall. She had a green, frilly bikini halter-top beneath a white t-shirt, and wore cutoff denim shorts over a standard white triangle bikini on the bottom. Thanks to clothing that a person would wear in any normal situation, the outfit gave off a very casual air. Her cuteness, already significant, was magnified with adorable little flower-bracelets on both arms. Unlike most people, she’d decided to stick with a pair of shoes, rather than either going barefoot, or wobbling around on wooden sandals.

The Ultimate Programmer nearly melted under all the eyes on her. But by the time she got the idea to retreat back into the stall and change back, Mukuro was blocking the way, arms crossed, staring down to meet her eyes.

“Junko told me to be ready.”

Just like Shuichi and Mikan, she was doomed.

Miu got Kaede on her case through the changing room door when the Ultimate Inventor called their mission the Charge of the Wimp Brigade. But she wasn’t wrong. Shuichi was by far the most gung-ho, aggressive member of his squad.

Which was coldly pitiful.

The three hopeless introverts shuffled in despair down the gorgeous, pure white sands of the beach. They were wrapped in the warm, soothing embrace of the tropical evening sun, low in the sky, and already beginning to cast the sky in a gorgeous patchwork of oranges, yellows, and reds. Their friends cheered them on as they went, and they were about to meet a variety of interesting, eccentric, and highly-skilled people who they’d be living with in tropical bliss for the foreseeable future.

Life was hell.

As living proof, there was Kokichi over there, playing cards in the shade.

Why not go up and say hi? That never went badly with Kokichi.

The purple-haired boy from his class had a thing for the colors black and white, as shown by his normal clothes he was wearing; a coat of white, with a stylish checkerboard black-white scarf on top. Oh, he also loved lies. A lot.

Shuichi’s entire existence was, whether or not he embraced it or regretted it, about revealing the truth. No matter how harsh it was. No matter who many people it hurt.

Back in the hotel complex, the two hit it off as well as oil and water.

Shuichi gravitated towards him regardless, because he was devastatingly cute- the group he was in also featured somebody he’d come to respect during their short stay on these islands. A mature-looking silver-haired young lady in an authentic maid uniform, stylized with spider webs and a European theme. Who hadn’t changed out of it. Likely due to her devotion to serving others, and refusing to relax. Even then.

In fact, all three, including a girl in black with huge black hair-drills and red eyes, kept their normal clothes on, and gave the water a wide berth. They gathered at one of the umbrella-shaded cafe tables near the exit from the beach.

As Shuichi drew closer, he determined from the logo on the back of their cards that this was the most noble and time-honored card game, and certainly the most fair and balanced. Yugioh. While the liar boy and the mysterious goth faced off in honorable combat, the elegant maid acted as keen-eyed referee.

The scene was too fascinating to avoid.

Shuichi’s group didn’t need to get their attention or call out a greeting. Kirumi noticed their approach, and once her eyes fell upon Shuichi, she gave him a calm smile, before looking to the girl on either arm. As in, both clinging to him for support, and trying to hide behind him.

“Greetings, Shuichi. I don’t believe I’ve met either of your friends.”

Kirumi was on a growing list of girls who made it difficult for Shuichi to even open his mouth to reply, even though she had nothing on her face but a friendly smile.

“H-Hello, Kirumi. We’re going to complete our Hope Fragment collection during the party, like Usami suggested. Um, do you guys have time for introductions?”

“Allow me,” Kirumi said. “So that they may focus on their game. First off, I would like to introduce my classmate, Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader.”

“S-Supreme leader?” Chihiro echoed in disbelief.

Kokichi looked up, fixing wide, childish purple eyes on her. His gaze narrowed slightly. The smile he had on his smug face froze for a moment. Chihiro couldn’t meet that percing gaze, and shuffled around, until Shuichi was between them. It was tough to hide behind him, though. “That’s right. Hi there, ladies.”

“H-H-Hello, mister…. Um…” Mikan faltered instantly.

“Wait.” Kokichi tilted his head. “You don’t remember my name?”

“Um… sh-should I?” Mikan asked. “H-Have we met, sir?”

“Oh my gosh! You really forgot… even about our promise we made? You said that you would be my bride when we got older!” Kokichi was on the verge of tears as he regarded Mikan. Who was, coincidentally enough, also on the verge of tears. “When I moved away, you said you’d never forget the times we shared…”

Shuichi would normally clam up, watching the farce unfold silently. However, the words of two meddlesome, confident people came to him and wouldn’t go away. He had to open his mouth. What came out were his thoughts, without fifty layers of filtering and self-doubt.

“What’s her name, then?”

The purple-haired boy looked over to Shuichi, baffled. “Pardon?”

“I-If you’re shocked that this girl doesn’t remember you, and you’re claiming you’re childhood friends, then what’s her name? What’s her Ultimate talent?”

Kokichi tapped his chin. “Oh, right!” He shrugged carelessly. “That was a lie. Sorry! Hey, hey, emo girl, what’s your name? And your talent? Is it the Ultimate Mummy?”

“Playing with a girl’s heart is one of the most dangerous gambles you can make, Kokichi,” The liar’s opponent said, giggling into a white glove. “Also, I’ll place two cards face down, and end my turn. Kirumi, I will handle this.”

Kirumi bowed to her with flawless form. “Understood, Miss Ludenberg.”

“Class 53 is blessed indeed. I am quite envious. _Ahem_. You may all address me as Miss Celestia Ludenberg. I am called the Ultimate Gambler, and whatever the game, whatever the stakes, I  _always_ win in the end.” She smiled upon Shuichi as she said, in a noticeably foreign affect that went part-in-parcel with her foreign name, “Please keep that in mind if we have any dealings in the future, Mister Detective.”

He was being challenged in some way. Even if Shuichi was going to do his best, though, the force of her personality made those red eyes particularly intimidating. Her overflowing confidence was perhaps justified. It looked like they were using rocks from the beach as poker chips in lieu of any real money. And every single rock, save for just one, was already piled up on Celestia’s half of the table. Shuichi spotted that while running through the introductions for his friends. “I’ll remember.”

Celestia was pleased by that response, favoring him with a smoldering, sly look that caused Shuichi’s heart to beat a little quicker. Between her clothes and that thick caking of white makeup, little remained of her that wasn’t covered up, save those eyes, and her lips, which curled upwards.

Kokichi shook his head. “Aw. I was hoping for some great battle of wills there. You’re both so clearly strong in that respect. But you still seem like you’d be way more fun than, well. That girl. Who knows where the ‘Ultimate Nurse’ has been, or what her real ‘talent’ is? Heck, both of your girlfriends there are hiding something huge.” Chihiro and Mikan both recoiled at his words, as if physically struck. “As a professional, nothing offends me worse than an amateur’s fumbling. So my advice is to be careful~ You know what they say about sticking your dick in crazy!”

There was no benefit to sticking around any further and indulging Kokichi. Just a lot of risk. Shuichi nodded respectfully to Kirumi and Celestia, and they returned the gesture.

A pair of elegant ladies to the end.

As the Wimp Brigade left, they barely avoided colliding into a panicking Hifumi in the process. He was stumbling over the hot sands, bouncing in a manner that reminded Shuichi strongly of that game of volleyball going on further down the beach, with the way he moved. In a pair of swim trunks, the Ultimate Doujin Author particularly looked absurd, but the oddest detail was the tray of drinks he was scrambling to carry towards the table back there.

Why exactly was he getting the refreshments when the Ultimate Maid was just standing there watching? For that matter, Shuichi saw what he was certain had to be Hifumi’s own shoes beneath the table. If he had his shoes, and the sand was too hot for him to walk on comfortably, then… why? Why any of that?

Time vanished into Shuichi’s pondering, as he led the girls in an aimless direction.

“Watch out!”

Something nailed him from behind like he’d been shot. The force eclipsed any Kaito back-slap. In fact, the hit was so hard that his feet kicked up sand, and he doubled over, coughing and hacking. The two girls he was pulling along started holding him up instead, and Mikan’s panic mode was firmly engaged. She did manage to confirm he was still alive, though.

A volleyball rolled down the beach before his very eyes.

Oh.

“Shuichi! Gonta so sorry!” When Shuichi recovered, the guys who had been playing volleyball were gathered around him and his squad. Front and center, the large, muscle bound giant with long, messy green hair and eyeglasses, another of his classmates.

A massive softie, Gonta. He looked like a beast in many senses, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless that fly said it didn’t like bugs. Then there could have been an accident. In fact, he seemed accident-prone in general, for somebody who displayed an absurd, catlike grace, given his size. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Shuichi said, raising his hand. “Ahem. Chihiro, Mikan, meet Gonta Gokuhara. The Ultimate Entomologist.” Not shockingly, neither of them were that into his talent. Also not surprisingly, Gonta, who claimed to grow up in the wilderness away from human contact, did not pick up on those signals.

“Oh! These new friends then, Shuichi? Excellent! More people for Gonta to impart bug wisdom to! The more bug-lovers on the island, the better for everyone!” That look in his eyes got downright scary when he got going, too. While at first glance, Shuichi had considered him a big teddy bear, he was really more like a freight train. Once he got going, stopping or changing directions was impossible. And anybody in the way just got run over.

“Maybe another time, Gonta.”

“Yes. When this other time is come, girls, come to Gonta to begin the Path of Bug.”

Mikan fidget-fluffed up to the much, much larger beast of a man, and had to avert her eyes to avoid staring. Shuichi knew that feeling well. She gathered up the thin scraps of her courage and voice. “E-E-Excuse me, Mister Gokuhara. P-P-Please exercise more caution when spiking the ball! R-Reckless fun can have long-term consequences! For instance, some people have been struck by sports balls in just the w-w-worst possible place, and were d-d-d-d-d-dead before they hit the ground!”

Wait, really? Shuichi grabbed his own chest, but felt the beating of his heart. It sounded stable enough, even with some panic mixed in there. Whew.

Mikan looked like she expected to be backhanded for her temerity. Well, Gonta was indeed scary on the outside. And sometimes on the inside. Occasionally. He even had an aura when he started to power up, as though he was gathering magical energy the more he went on about bugs. However, Gonta looked down at his feet sheepishly at Mikan’s rebuke. “Gonta know, and Gonta is as sorry as can be. Gonta be way more careful.”

“Um! G-good! Thank you! I appreciate it! I’m sorry for being so impertinent and rude!”

Shuichi looked to Gonta’s side, and saw an all too familiar antenna-like bit of hair. “Oh, hey, Kiibo. I guess you’re waterproof after all?” He straightened up, and smiled at the other boy he recognized, Gonta’s teammate in that 2v2 volleyball match. While Gonta himself was in a pair of trunks that made it impossible to hide the extent of his powerful, muscular physique, Kiibo himself was dressed like an astronaut in that big, black and green suit of his. Only his top, pale skin with visible weld-joints, and green-blue eyes, along with white messy hair, was even visible of his body.

“Correct, Shuichi. I tested it extensively. While sand is going to be annoying to remove later, water goes right through my system.”

Shuichi looked to either side, at his squad. “Mikan, Chihiro, this is K1-B0. As you can probably see, he’s the Ultimate Robot. Just call him Kiibo, everyone else does.”

That piqued enough of Chihiro’s interest to bring her forward, hands clasped together over her ‘developing’ chest. “No. Way.”

“Um… hello there. I do not believe we have met,” Kiibo said. His eyes scanned over Chihiro, and as with everyone else she met, he didn’t find one thing about her that wasn’t cute. Except perhaps how close she was getting, and how she reached out towards him tentatively.

“Chihiro Fujisaki here is the Ultimate Programmer,” Shuichi explained. “You may want to start running, Kiibo.”

“Oh no, another one!” Kiibo did indeed seem to consider whether he could flee. “Um, before you ask, it really is true. I am not, in fact, an organic being like my peers. I am a robot, produced by Professor Idabashi, the leading light of Japanese robotics.”

“It’s _amazing_ to meet you, Kiibo,” Chihiro said, her voice more breathy and low than Shuichi had ever heard it. “We theorize that the large robots, and Usamis, are basically just sophisticated drones. Because it doesn’t seem feasible that they have such strong AI. I strongly doubt you’re the same as them.”

“Correct. I am guided by my own, self-contained mind. Normally, I would be configured to receive updates wirelessly, but that function appears not to be active. Or I am simply not receiving any software updates or patches from wherever we are.” He saw the look in Chihiro’s wide green eyes, and quickly added, “Um, might I say, trying to study me without my consent is a gross and blatant act of discrimination and harassment. I am fully equipped to record discriminatory actions and words, and use them against you in a court of law.”

“Unless we’re about to start holding trials out here, that don’t mean much.” A gruff, masculine voice said, and Shuichi looked over, only to get a shock. The source was instantly recognizable from the gathering earlier. Although with such a magnificent styled pompadour, he was distinctive at any time. “Yo, Fujisaki. This guy giving you any problems?”

The man, who wasn’t as much of a massive beast as Gonta, clearly had some serious muscle on him as well. Like all the three human boys in their group, he had on his swim trunks and nothing else, and made quite a sight. Shuichi had no doubt that his keen mind would record every detail of that sight, too, and not just out of fear. Although there was some of that. The thug cracked his knuckles, and fixed Shuichi with a death glare.

“Not at all,” Chihiro said, obviously distracted as she inched closer and closer to Kiibo, who tried to use Gonta for cover. “Oh, and Shuichi here has been super nice to me, too. Shuichi, meet Mondo Owada, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader.” She said all that without taking her eyes off the Ultimate Robot.

“Nice to meet you,” Shuichi said, in blatant contradiction to common sense and his own feelings. He had to give everyone a fair shake, though. Especially until he got to know anybody, and learned their personalities. He fiddled with his hat.

“Yeah, same, man. If Fujisaki says you’re okay, then hey.” What a tonal shift.

It was astounding to think that there would be an Ultimate Biker Gang Leader. Well, it was hard to swallow Ultimate Robot, too. That was, as Kokichi taunted Kiibo about earlier, not something he did, but just what he was. The two ways to look at it were either that meant that Kiibo’s talent was mundane or even pathetic compared to the excellence of, say, the Ultimate Tennis Pro or that the very nature of his existence was extraordinary. He was a robot whose complexity blew Usami, or the walking mechs, out of the water.

Well, everyone on this beachfront was defined by one aspect of their lives, as it became the focal point of absolutely everything else. Maybe they weren’t all that different after all.

Mondo’s partner was the part that really didn’t make any sense at all. The two sure didn’t look happy about working together, but there was somebody Shuichi already knew well. The sound of his voice, particularly. Before him stood yet another person with black hair and red eyes, the Ultimate Moral Compass, Kiyotaka Ishimaru. While some in his own class had taken to calling him Kiyo, that was confusing, since Shuichi’s own group included a Korekiyo. Ishimaru would do. Shuichi introduced him as such.

“Greetings again, Saihara!” Ishimaru said, practicing what he preached about how greetings should always be done at maximum enthusiasm. He grinned, holding out his hands. “I’m glad to see you’re adapting to Academy life! Although wearing your hat on the beach… hm. I suppose it does keep the sun out of your eyes. Splendid thinking!”

When somebody wanted to say something nice, but didn’t actually know you very well, or have anything to praise, they inevitably said something along the lines of ‘nice shoes’. Or, for Shuichi, ‘nice hat’.

It was the thought that counted.

“T-Thanks. It looks like you guys are really going. Um, what’s the score?”

“Currently, the game stands at six to three! We’re the three, unfortunately.”

Mondo growled, “I told you what to do, but you can’t just take a fuckin’ hint. Plus, if you’re the one keeping score, why don’t ya just say you forgot or somethin?”

“ _Owada!_ Have you no shame?! I am only allowed to take score while also participating in the game because our opponents trust I would _never_ do such a thing.” Ishimaru pointed over towards Kiibo. “Not to mention, Kiibo would definitely pick up on such cheap tactics. He’s made of numbers.”

“That is a gross oversimplification,” Kiibo replied coolly. “Akin to me saying that you’re made of water. Also. My concentration and memory recall are not picture-perfect. As with my physical strength, they are averaged to the level of a senior citizen.”

“Gonta wondered why robot friend couldn’t do grand-slam move,” Gonta admitted. “... Gonta also wondered what robot is…”

“Why did your creator set things up that way?” Chihiro asked, yet again on the verge of tears, this time in sympathy for a machine who was so harshly limited. “Um, if I was permitted to just take a look with the right tools, I’m certain that-”

“Thank you, but please no. The original reason why I was created in a manner which may seem limited to you is because in prototype production, my unit… caused a serious accident in the lab. It is far preferable that I not be able to harm others, physically or mentally, then that I be given more power. And, to be frank, I am tired of people trying to ‘help’, ‘upgrade’, or ‘study’ me in any form.”

 _“Miu’s in our class,”_ Shuichi whispered to Chihiro, who understood all the myriad implications of that remark instantly. Her eyes went wide.

Her face went red, and she withdrew, bowing deeply. “You’re probably fed up in general with technical Ultimates trying to take you apart like some lab rat, huh… And all I did was exacerbate that…”

“Least she ain’t trying to fuck you, like the pink-haired bitch!” Mondo laughed loudly. “Although, man, you know. If that was me, and I had girls crawling all over my, uh, what’d ya call it, ‘chassis’? One of the things you gotta learn about life is ‘carpe diem’, brother. Seize the day, and make it your bitch.”

Shuichi found some of those words inspiring, at least. “Please, don’t let us hold you guys up. We’re going to keep gathering those Hope Fragments.”

“Very well, Shuichi. Good luck.” Kiibo and the other guys got back to it, which meant that Shuichi’s had had to make a prompt exit to avoid being hit by what felt like artillery fire. Every spike from either side made a massive explosion of sand or water like the beach was under naval bombardment, or perhaps meteors were falling from the sky.

Kiibo looked like the one who needed the luck to keep up with three muscle-heads. Hopefully, it would be a good experience about the human condition. It was definitely great for getting a living, breathing display of powerful male anatomy. Mikan in particular visibly wobbled as they left. Oh, and when that Ishimaru-Mondo alliance finally exploded in spectacular fashion, Kiibo would learn a thing or two about emotion, too.

As they walked along the beach, Shuichi took a moment to note the weather. Overhead, the scattered clouds were fluffy and white. The horizon, however, looked like it held a gathering storm. Darker bands of clouds swirled around fast enough for his eye to easily track. At least if that storm-front reached them, it would likely take hours. Everyone could retire to the hotels and take shelter.

So, they really would be spending the night on this island resort. Something about considering taking cover from a storm, and bunkering up in that bungalow in Hotel 53, brought home the reality of their entire situation in one moment. Whatever happened, whatever the reason for this elaborate ‘field trip’, benevolent or malevolent, they were not getting back to Hope’s Peak Academy, or Japan, any time soon. They were on Gopher Island for the foreseeable future.

The thought was stark, but Shuichi knew from personal experience that they could also be a lot worse. If nothing else, every basic need a person had was being met; food, clothing, shelter, physical safety. Even some of the more esoteric ones were being serviced by this whole deal about the Hope Shards and nurturing hope.

They were entirely in Usami’s power, for now. Whatever soft words and cutesy language she wanted to use, the stuffed Professor was the one who decided how things went for everyone. Thus, their needs being met, and even their safety, might change at any time.

That, too, would depend entirely on what was behind their abduction and the memory loss. Who did it? For what purpose?

Dammit. He promised Kaede two things. He wouldn’t worry himself to death, and he would help Chihiro and Mikan gather their Hope Fragments while doing the same for himself.

Vanishing into his own navel served neither goal.  
  
“... I’m sorry, Shuichi…”

Speaking of which.

He turned around, and saw both of his friends looking mournful. “Um, what’s wrong?”

“You got stuck with us, right? Kaito was talking about it…”

“That’s right,” Chihiro said, “He said ‘guys shouldn’t be slender’, huh… I guess he’s right about that, but even so…”

“You don’t look very happy about it,” Mikan said. Then, immediately, as if compelled by deep issues, she added, “Not to imply I expect you to be happy, since you have to talk with me and work with me and I understand that’s just… disgusting!”

“The only thing disgusting here is that attitude.”

“Eh?!”

“If you’re worried about me, please don’t be,” Shuichi said, shaking his head. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. Kaito and Kaede basically said you two wouldn’t be able to go up to people and say ‘hi’ without a babysitter.”

“T-That’s true, though,” Mikan admitted, fluffing sourly. “Y-You’ve seen us try to interact, and how pitiful it is.”

Shuichi hadn’t really felt he was in over his depth until that moment. He was staring down two girls who were on the verge of breakdowns. While he himself wasn’t exactly a social type. Or much of an anything type, to be honest. He’d have been happy to scrub this ‘mission’ and shuffle back to his hotel room. Like he saw certain people doing. He knew Kyouko Kirigiri and Maki Harukawa, two of the girls with missing memories, and sharp attitudes, had already slunk off the beach. They went back towards the rest of First Island with barely a word to anyone.

Whenever he thought of just leaving, though, he remembered the promise to made to Kaede and Kaito. And, in fact, to Chihiro and Mikan themselves. To show them around and keep the jerks off their back.

“That’s wrong.” Shuichi said, suddenly calm.

The answer came to him, just like that; a bridge being connected, a road being paved. The tunnel opened up, and out came his thoughts.

Mikan shuddered, staring at him like a doe in the headlights. “W-W-What do you mean?”

“Both of you have already proven you don’t need me around.” Shuichi explained, although he had to avert his gaze. Having two girls focus on him was intimidating. Even if they were the last intimidating girls in human history, and capable of hurting about .5 flies, between them.

“Mikan, when Gonta wasn’t being safe, you politely asked him to be more careful, and he agreed. Look, nobody else has been hit since the ball and I had that disagreement. You spoke to Hajime, too, he told me about it earlier. Chihiro, you had no trouble talking to Kiibo. I’m sure that he’ll see the advantage of knowing the Ultimate Programmer. Just like we all have. For that matter, you talked to Hajime too this morning, right?”

Shuichi felt the answers come to him, but the actual words were tougher to format properly. If he was Kaede, he’d probably be able to say something about the why, not just the proof, the evidence. Something about how Mikan’s care for others was obviously greater than her shyness, and how when Chihiro really got going in her area of expertise, she opened up and it was wonderful.

None of those words came, because Shuichi was nothing but himself.

“I suppose that’s true,” Chihiro admitted less enthusiastically than Shuichi had seen some people confess to crimes. “When I get deep into my nerdy hobbies, I feel like I can open up to other people. Especially my friends.”

“And I can’t help but meddle and bother people, ehe.” Mikan giggled, face red. “It’s compulsive.”

Shuichi nodded in relief. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would these girls’ self-confidence recover from whatever happened in their lives to get them like they were. However, they were taking a step every time they left footprints in the sand, walking up and down Tranquility Beach with him, searching for those elusive Hope Fragments.

“It might be true we don’t need you, Shuichi. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you to come along with us, or that you haven’t helped us, too.” Chihiro’s bright, wide, child-like smile was invigorating. “I mean, you’ve done well so far, too! You’ve helped us!”

Shuichi all but scoffed. “I don’t really know about that.”

“W-Well, I certainly remember a certain detective boy leading us away before M-Mister Ouma could make us feel worse than normal about ourselves. Y-You knew he was going to prey on the weak targets in front of him, and got us out of there.” Mikan looked like she was going to pass out, right there on the sand, from the exertion. But she held it together, and Chihiro nodded enthusiastically.

“Exactly! Just like you told the others, you’ve watched out for us! And we really appreciate it.”

Shuichi couldn’t get the hat low enough, since he needed to see where he was going. “That’s one way to look at things. Either way, let’s keep going.”

“Right!”

Onward charged the Wimp Brigade, renewed of spirit and purpose.


	7. 0-7. The Ultimate Beach Party II (Kaede)

Kaede Akamatsu had performed in front of royalty, leaders, artists in other fields, and businessmen, demonstrating poise and technique on her piano.

She’d gone out on stage in front of packed crowds, and strung together a melody that melted everyone’s hearts.

Once, in Tokyo, it had resulted in stunned, absolute silence afterwards. For ten minutes. No one dared to speak until then.

It wasn’t that Kaede was fearless. In fact, she was shaking on the inside every time she put on a big performance. Fear came naturally to anyone, though. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

Courage was about experiencing that bone-chilling sensation, and then going forward anyway.

So why was stepping out of the changing stall such a big deal?

Was it because, when she looked at herself in a mirror, all she could do was look at the places where the cute, light-pink musical-note bikini revealed her skin? Especially her stomach, which was round, soft, and visibly squished when she poked it, or pinched some of the extra Kaede outwards to see.

There sure was a lot of extra Kaede to display, huh.

Some of it was the sort that was ‘good’, like her big chest. But her stomach, her thighs, which lacked any gap whatsoever. What about them? The bikini was an average, modern design. Not prudish, but nowhere near as daring as Junko and Tsumugi, who bared nearly everything, for everyone to see.

So confident in their own bodies. With very good reason. If Kaede was a guy, hoo boy.

Actually, scratch that, Kaede wouldn’t mind even as she was, if the other girls were receptive. Although at the moment, she was less excited by the thought, then just irrationally jealous. Why did they get born looking like that, while she was just… herself?

“Nnngh.” Thinking that way was just giving in to a dumb mentality! Peer pressure! The magazines and models and TV and just, the culture! It was culture that made her feel this way. She knew better.

It didn’t help, but she knew in the intellectual side of her brain that she had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Geeze…” If she knew she was going to be kidnapped and taken to a tropical resort, maybe Kaede would have started going to the gym or something. And cut back on all those delicious sweets and cake.

Probably not.

 _“Kaede! How you doing?”_ Kaito demanded from the other side of the changing booth door, startling the blonde pianist inside out of her wits.

“Super great!” Kaede replied. “Um, could you maybe just look away when I come out?”

 _“Come on!”_ Kaito yelled. _“You have nothing to fear but fear itself!”_

_“And people realizing she pads her bra! Can’t hide that any more! Ahahahaha!”_

Kaede crossed her arms, and squared her shoulders. “I’m certainly not coming out until _she_ goes away!”

_“Come on, Bakamatsu! You’ll be inferior to me in brains, beauty, and bust, whether you’re in the fucking closet, or out of it. And everyone already knows you’re a flaming lesbian ripe with the stench of a bitch, so just come on out! Hahaha!”_

Kaede looked for something in her belongings which could be used as a weapon. Really, anything _could_ be a weapon, if one had either mechanical advantage, such as using a cloth and wrapping it around the neck. Or if it had mass, like a big, heavy blunt object which could deliver a lot of force.

Given the proper motivation, anything would work.

_“Excuse me? Miu?”_

_“Haaah? The fuck you want, Kazucheeky? Here to admire the goods? By all means, feast your eyes, you stalker! No need to sneak around in the bushes to see these babies!”_

_“Whoa. Nice swimsuit. That is a swimsuit, right? Um! Actually. Kiibo told me that he wanted to meet you near the rocks over there.”_

_“For real?! Kiibs wants to meet with me? Like, alone?”_

_“That was kinda the impression I got.”_

_“Oh man. Oh shit. Heh heh heh… Thanks, Kaz. I’ll give you a ‘special reward’ later, since you were actually useful for once in your fucking life. But for now, I’ve got to go take care of, you know. Business.”_

_“Yeah, we get it.”_

_“I’m going to fuck the robot!”_

_‘We get it!”_

_“I’mma squeeze out every drop of whatever the fuck’s actually in there!”_

Miu’s voice grew more distant, and then, mercifully, faded off completely. Kiibo’s timing was just too perfect on that assist. Kaede murmured to herself, quietly, but with intense conviction, “Kiibo… I will never forget this minute. This second. You gave _everything_ , to give me this one chance.” She clenched her fist, and saw her own reflection in the full-length mirror. The look in her purple eyes was one of determination, and hope itself embodied. “I’m not gonna waste it!”

Kaede walked out of the changing stall.

“... So, how bad is it?”

She was hardly the only plus-sized girl on this beach, she told herself. It didn’t stop the others from joining the party. The look on Kaito’s face also helped her own confidence, no doubt.

“Glad to see you still don’t know how to be subtle, Kaito. I wonder how Shuichi’s doing,” Kaede said, and she saw Kaito’s eyes finally get up to her own.

“I don’t,” He said, hand on his hip as he gazed off into the sea as it rolled up and down the beach, crashing against the pure white sand in waves. The motion of the ocean was much more gentle earlier in the day. It was growing intense enough that Kaede vaguely wished for some surfboards. “I mean, he’s part of our crew, right? Then that’s all there is to it. He’ll manage.”

Kaede smiled. “I thought you were the kind of guy who’s all talk, but now I’m not so sure. You sound like you really believe in him. I mean, we all just met each other.”

“Tch. When I’m talking to you on a time-lag because I’m so far into space that the Earth looks like a pale blue dot, then we’ll see whether I’m just talk!” Kaito proclaimed. “Of course, first we’ve got to get back to the outside world. Whether that involves escaping here, or climbing whatever walls HPA set up in front of us? We’ll see. Either way, Shuichi’s got to stand up for himself.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doubting Shuichi per se,” Kaede said. “He’s just… a really shy guy. Your total opposite. Smart, but withdrawn. And cute.”

Kaito’s face matched the shade of his wonderful jacket, the one with the galaxy pattern on the interior. “Listen here, you- Oh, Miu, that didn’t take long! Guess the hot date didn’t go so well?”

Kaede froze up.

For all of a few moments, before Kaito laughed uproariously. “Kidding! Just remember, when you back a guy into a corner, he’s capable of anything to get himself out. Even changing and growing. If he has to. I don’t know Shuichi or what he’s about, but he’s a man. He’ll get it done.” Kaito checked his Hope Pad and swore. “I still don’t have all the damn Fragments myself, huh?”

‘Same here,” Kaede said. She noticed some gaps in the other classes. While everyone met their own classmates earlier, the groups tended to stick together. Only members of the crew, or the anti-social types, really strayed far. “Well, let’s get to it, then. If we just stand around talking, Shuichi will be the one who has to motivate us.”

Kaede set out across the beach, to face her fears. Namely, being seen by other people in a swimsuit. At least in this situation, most of the other girls had also taken Usami’s swimsuits, or brought their own to show off. She didn’t feel alone. Kaede walked across and through groups of students, exchanging cheerful greetings.

And getting a fair mountain of complements, until her face was boiling.

Not everyone approved of her look, though.

Kaede spotted both Togamis running across the beach, which was an odd enough sight to bring her to a complete halt. Until she saw why they were running from. A gloomy-looking girl with pigtails, big glasses, and who was dressed in dark, nearly-black purple. Not a swimsuit, but an old school uniform style of some sort, worn ragged from age and frayed on the end of the long skirt.

Combined with stray strands of her long hair that had escaped captivity, the pale girl brought ‘disheveled’ to new heights. “Master Byakuya… both of you… just how far do you think you’ll be able to run, tee heeee…..”

“Uh. Are you okay?” Kaede asked cautiously.

She was rewarded with a caustic glare. And a finger in her face. “W-What do you want, _popular girl_?!”

“Popular girl?” Kaede echoed in alarm. The girl had spat the term, like it was a grave insult.

“W-With a shameless body like that, and that blonde hair, and that ff-f-f-fucking attitude of yours… there’s no way you’d not be a big hit and have a huge fanbase!”

“Fanbase?”

“Is there really nothing in that blonde head?! Am I hearing an echo coming back at me, b-bitch?”

“We just met, and already you're calling me a bitch. Wow.” That made two. Two too many. Kaede put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks. “If you’re trying to do some kind of comedy routine, I don’t really have time right now. I’m trying to gather the rest of the Hope Fragments, and I know we’ve never met before now. In spite of all those assumptions you’re making about me. So, should we trade? Or should I just take my blonde self somewhere else, and let you keep bothering the Super Togami Brothers over there?”

The girl with glasses paused for a moment, staring her down, biting her own thumb.

“Well?”

‘Oh, why not. That dumb rabbit will just pester me more, and more, and more, until I finally do it…. Tch. Not that y-y-you actually care, but I’m Touko Fukawa. The Ultimate Writing Prodigy.”

“... Wait, Fukawa?” Kaede blinked. “Might you be the same Miss Fukawa who wrote So Lingers The Ocean?”

“S-So what if I am?!”

“I read that, like, a dozen times! Oh my gosh!” Kaede’s earlier defensiveness and annoyance melted away in the wake of remembering how enthusiastic she used to be about that book. She was a few years too old to be totally swept up in the whirlwind, or rather, hurricane romance.

But she remembered the feeling, fondly.

Surely, she’d just caught Fukawa in a bad mood for some reason. Kaede just had to tell her how much her works had an effect on Kaede’s life growing up. Like many young girls of her generation, she’d developed a persistent fondness for fishermen. All thanks to that work.

It felt like her gushing praise somehow drove the Ultimate Writing Prodigy off. Fukawa shielded her face, as if being blinded by a great light, or melted by the sun, and slinked off.

Hissing. Kaede was sure of it thanks to her golden ears.

Fukawa was faintly _hissing_ at her.

That was the weirdest encounter Kaede could have that evening. She felt certain nothing could top it. At first, it seemed like she was right. Although a few came close. Such as when she nearly ended up saving somebody’s life. Because of that superhuman hearing.

Which, on a public beach, was unfortunate. The cacophony of voices was bad enough. Kaede was good enough to be able to pick out specific words from several incoming noise channels, all simultaneously, and interpret them. Which meant that instead of the noise becoming just like the roar of the turbulent ocean, a white noise background that she grew accustomed to, her mind kept trying to process it like she was being spoken to.

The result was like she’d developed psychic powers. The uncontrollable, crowd-of-people-drives-you-insane version.

The best she could do was tune her brain to concentrate on one specific voice. She became a serial eavesdropper, listening in on conversations ranging across all of Tranquility Beach. Including, by chance, happening upon a group of boys whispering to each other and making plots and plans. Kaede turned, heading for the source of the noise, even as she listened in curiously.

And heard an all-too familiar voice from a certain mechanic of her acquaintance.

_“Alright, men! It’s time to commence the operation!”_

_“Kukuku. What do you call this plan, again?”_

There was a pronounced sigh. _“Operation Enduring Babe Hunt. I could have been headbanging with Ibuki right now, and shooting up if she found anything. But I chose this instead...”_

_“I like it, my dudes! It’s right on the nose, like everything about me! Our objective is nothing short of going home with dates tonight! And we won’t leave without achieving that goal! I’ve seen it, which means it’s gonna happen, guaranteed! Thirty percent of the time!”_

_“You aren’t down with this, Kiyo?”_

_“On the contrary, I think this is a marvelous idea.”_ And then, quieter, to himself, Kaede just picked up her classmate say to himself, _“The moment your hopes are dashed upon the rocks. That, too, may be beautiful.”_

Before Kaede reached the boys, she ended up getting to their target by accident. She stumbled upon a group of girls together, laid out on the beach chairs. Some of them were sunbathing, others languishing in the shade, and some had gathered for a picnic with treats provided by Usami's concession stand. Kaede was grateful to see most of the girls were in swimsuits, and looking comfortable.

And fantastic.

Junko, Tsumugi, and Mukuro were in a group on one edge of the gathering. They reclined in repose, beneath the setting sun. Well, the two fashion models were. They were clad in absolutely nothing save their outlandish, astoundingly sexy sling bikinis, opposing each other, white-red and blue, respectively. They showed so much skin. Kaede found it much easier to track what was actually covered up.

Tiny bits of their bodies, concentrated on the areas that people found most objectionable when they were uncovered. Chests, and between the thighs. That was it. Especially with a side-profile of Junko languishing and laying about, Kaede saw the strings pulled taught. It left a gap between Junko’s flat stomach and the sling.

A friend’s violin performance came to mind.

Compared to them, Mukuro’s grey-black camo-print bikini and hoodie combo was modest. She sat in seiza, looking around constantly in large, wide sweeps rather than up at the sky. Unlike her friends, she wasn’t sporting a pair of big sunglasses, but preferred to keep her eyes clear. She saw Kaede in the distance, and nodded. Kaede waved in return.

It wasn’t like Mukuro’s continued presence wasn’t a concern at all. But if Kaede had her choice, then being friends with the Ultimate Soldier was a lot better the alternatives. There was no way to put the genie back in the bottle. But if the genie helped her group out, then that was fine.

Junko’s group provided good examples of an outfit Kaede didn’t think she’d ever have the confidence to wear. Even with her weight worries aside. Both of those women were born to the spotlight, like Sayaka, in ways that Kaede could barely even understand.

Nobody else among the girls reached that level of daring, but there were bikinis all over. That swordswoman, Peko, sat alongside the small, cute dancer girl, Hiyoko. And beside them, Class 53’s own cute little girl, Himiko Yumeno. What an odd trio there.

HPA records listed her as the Ultimate Magician, but trying to call her that provoked an explosion like Kaede rarely saw, and only from little kids before now. Himiko was supposedly around the same age as everyone else, and possibly old enough to buy drinks from a bar.

What a mess, though. Until she was referred to by her ‘proper’ title, the Ultimate Mage, the redheaded strawberry of a girl just wouldn’t back down. Her and Shuichi got into quite the one-sided argument, until Himiko said something rude about the hat.

Then it was a two-sided argument. Kaede had to intercede to avoid the martial arts girl of the group, Tenko, beating up the Ultimate Detective. Given that one of Tenko’s legs was about twice the size of Shuichi’s waist, she probably could have just snapped him in half like a twig, if she wanted. And from Tenko’s rants about menaces, it was clear she wanted that.

Now, Kaede found herself in a familiar position, set to prevent a second boy from being suplexed to the earth’s core or something, as she found a...

_**“Degenerate male!”** _

As she called guys, during the group’s introductions at the Mirai Hotel. And as Tenko Chabashira, the girl known as the Ultimate Akido Master, now hollered, as she ran on long, powerful legs straight towards the intruder.

“State your business, you cockroach! … Ah, Miss Akamatsu! Stand back! Tenko will clear this degenerate from your sight so he can’t bother you!”

Kazuichi cowered behind his black cap. “H-Hey, what’s your problem! I just said, all I want to do is talk with Miss Sonia.”

“Talk! Tenko knows the male-code for ‘ _talk_ ’, you wriggling worm. Nngh. Long things that wriggle around and get everywhere… that’s all you are, and that’s all you want to give to ‘Miss Sonia’! You should refer to her Royal Highness with proper respect!”

Kazuichi held his ground at least enough to argue, even though he couldn’t meet Tenko’s eyes for fear of provoking her further. “Um, can I point out how blatantly unfair you’re being? I mean, there’s guys over there! Look, I can see Rantaro, and Ryoma just chilling out with the athlete girls. Why aren’t you on their cases?”

“Because! They are a world away from what you are, filth. They may be… _males_ , but they are no threat! Unlike you!”

“Ryoma is a convicted murderer, and will admit that to your face in a five minute conversation! He’s killed men!”

“Exactly! Men! Tenko fails to see any problem whatsoever.”

Kaede rubbed her forehead. Even if she wasn’t already inclined to intervene and save her crewmate, she did owe Kaz quite a big one for earlier. “Kazuichi, Chihiro wanted to talk to you about the Hope Pads. Something about Operation Enduring something?”

Come on, genius mechanic. Pick up on it.

“Uh, oh. Right. That project we were on! Sorry, Miss Tenko, but if you beat me up, then Chihiro won’t have anybody to help her hack into Usami’s network.”

“If that’s the case, Tenko will permit you to leave alive. This once.”

What a merciful girl. She wouldn’t beat him to death, on the spot, for trying to start a conversation. Kaede made a mental note to have several serious discussions with Tenko. Either tonight when everyone gathered at the hotel, or perhaps tomorrow. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have plenty of time to try and figure out what her major malfunction was.

“Tch. Thanks.”

Tenko struck a terrifying martial arts pose and let out a bellowing noise. “ _Hiyah!_ This is a one-time thing due to you being useful to a girl, Kazuichi! If you try to cross the Tenko Perimeter, which Tenko has helpfully marked with her foot, then you, or any of your friends cowering behind that rock over there, may feel the full power of Neo-Aikido! Oh yes, don’t think Tenko didn’t notice all of you over there.”

Kaede sighed, and spotted the rock Tenko indicated. “Kiyo’s hair is sticking out.”

The mechanic was on the edge of tears. “It’s not a very big rock, okay! This beach is as smooth as Miss, uh.”

Kazuichi looked at Tenko, who looked back at him with the burning rage of thousands of years of oppression crying out for revenge. Tenko’s body, wrapped in Usami’s standard white swimsuit offering, visibly rippled with muscle tone and power. Kazuichi decided not to finish whatever he was about to say, and instead just withdraw gracefully. Since he still had all his shark-teeth.

“Whew! Another situation defused without the need for violence. That, Miss Akamatsu, is the true strength of Neo-Aikido! To win without fighting is the greatest virtue.”

Kaede wished she had Makoto or Shuichi’s patience, but she simply didn’t. “You threatened to kill him!”

“With the greatest of respect, Miss Akamatsu, Tenko merely implied that, if he or his degenerate friends were to cross Tenko, they might not survive. Tenko never violated Tenko’s strictly peaceful devotion to self-defense, and the defense of others. In fact, that is why Tenko must stand guard. Those awful boys were bothering so many of the girls that we banded together. It’s better when it’s just girls, anyway!”

“And Ryoma and Rantaro,” Kaede added, rolling her eyes.

“You met Rantaro as well, Miss Akamatsu. He’s about halfway to becoming a girl anyhow, so he’s far more okay than any other degenerate male swine on this island could be. And Ryoma was nice to Tenko, which demonstrates his benevolent nature beneath all the hardship and pain of his life.”

What a haphazard doctrine. “Tenko, if you can tolerate those two, then why do you have such a problem with Shu-”

“Ah! Tenko must apologize profusely,” Tenko said, while bowing in a doegza right there on the sand before her. Having someone prostrate herself before her caused Kaede to flinch in surprise. It was just as surprising when she popped up, bouncing like she was made of rubber, and exhibiting boundless energy. “Tenko should continue her vigil for another half hour or so, and then Tenko can rotate to Peko, who has agreed to help keep watch, as well.”

“Yeah, that would do it,” Kaede said. “I know I wouldn’t like to get on her bad side. Go ahead, Tenko. Uh, do you mind if I…?”

“Hm? Oh! This line is only to ward off degenerate male criminal filth, Miss Akamatsu. A girl like yourself cannot be a molester like that Saihara wimp probably is, deep down. Only perverts wear hats to cover their faces. So please, go right ahead. And if you change your mind about him, or have anything else you need help with, please, come to Tenko.”

“Thanks.” Resisting the urge to pick a fight with an actual martial artist, Kaede gave her a big, false smile, unclenched her fist, and walked over to the girls.

Kaede reached the athletes, or at least some of them. Kaede recognized Ryoma Hoshi at first sight that morning, since he was a famous tennis star, listed as the Ultimate Tennis Pro by HPA. Most people would. Well, Kaede hoped they would know him from his accolades in tennis, but the more likely story to be written about him would involve the fact that he was a convicted criminal.

As Kazuichi had said, he’d killed people before.

Using the talent that had elevated him, at one time, to the top of his entire sport in the whole country. As he said to Kaede and the others when they introduced themselves in the hotel, “The man known as Ryoma Hoshi, who you may have heard of, is dead now.”

The details were unknown to Kaede. She had to admit, Ryoma didn’t look like much of a killer. Or much like anything she’d ever seen before.

He was small and cute. A pair of mini swimming trunks like what a child would use didn’t help that impression. ‘Adult’ certainly didn’t spring to mind, even though behind those beady eyes and round face sat an unusually thoughtful and serious expression at all times. His mannerisms were muted and calm. He just had a cute little chubby soft body that completely belied incredible talent, athletic ability, and blinding speed.

In a normal group, he’d draw the eye immediately, but he had stiff competition. The most immediately recognizable figure, visible for miles off in any direction, was another muscle-bound giant. On the same scale as Gonta. Kaede had only a normal-looking person, and a childlike individual to compare them to. Since Gonta was on the other side of the beach. She suspected that this person might have been even larger. Their dark-blue athletic-style leotard clung to a figure that was muscle, piled atop muscle, and more muscle. The outline and shape was like what a human might look like, if they were seven hundred percent muscle.

They had long white-silverish hair, but it looked like it was brushed regularly. Their skin tone was heavily, deeply tanned, and crisscrossed across their face with scars and other markings. They appeared weathered, hardened, and the word ‘battle-tested’ came to mind, even before Ryoma noticed Kaede’s arrival, and introduced them back and forth.

“Kaede Akamatsu here’s called the Ultimate Pianist. Meet Sakura Oogami, the Ultimate Martial Artist. She’s quite impressive, huh? A far cry from Tenko.”

More specifically, Sakura there looked like what an ‘ultimate fighter’ was, in Kaede’s mind; Tenko was too cute for that.

Kaede sent silent ‘thank you’ waves to Ryoma, as the living powerhouse turned from her sitting position, legs crossed, across from Ryoma. It occured to Kaede that saying the wrong pronouns in a situation involving this beast might have proven fatal, and that she was having tea with Ryoma. And… was that a brush, some ink, and calligraphy paper?

“Greetings,” Sakura said, her voice low and gravelly. However, she sounded sincere, and dipped her head low. Even sitting down, even bowing, Kaede was basically eye-level with her. She made sure to return the bow. “Ryoma has kindly told me of your leadership, along with Kaito. Most admirable. In this uncertain time, if there is anything that I could possibly do to-”

“Ooh, ooh, me next! C’mon, guys, don’t crowd me out of this picture.”

In the back of her mind, Kaede expected the dark-skinned girl to get punched into orbit for her rudeness. However, Sakura took it in stride, eyes closed in a mask of serenity. In fact, she was smiling. ‘Of course. Introductions are more important than small talk, Hina. Please, go ahead.”

Compared to the two exceptional persons sitting down and having tea together, this third girl should have been ‘normal’.

However, in every particular detail, she stuck out. Kaede couldn’t help but appreciate some of the ways she stuck out of that athletic-style blue-black competition one-piece. Its high-leg cut and natural adherence to physics revealed a whole lot of rich, creamy brown skin. The girl’s eyes were a bright, contrasting blue, and she wore a huge smile on her face as she sprang to her feet and put out her hand.

Which caused her to lean forward. Which tested Kaede’s willpower to the breaking point. Simply put, this girl was extremely busty. Kaede heavily approved, even as she accepted a handshake. She was greeted with a warm smile, and a girl getting right up into her personal space, perhaps without realizing what effect that would have on somebody.

Or perhaps realizing it full well, and taking advantage of it to get Kaede suddenly a bit light-headed.

“I’m from Class 1, like Sakura here! Aoi Asahina, and you can call me the Ultimate Swimming Pro, if you want.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kaede said, and meant it. Somehow, even though her swimsuit was the sort of regulation athletic attire seen in actual, serious sporting events, it was just, well. A swimsuit was only as good as the body it was wrapped around and trying desperately to contain. And in this case, failing spectacularly. Kaede could see an entire valley of flawless, soft skin. “I guess it’s obvious, but I expected you to be in the water.”

“Well, yeah. Earlier, I totally had my fill of swimming. At least, I did enough to do me today. So during this beach party, I can relax and make friends instead!”

“Hina here means that she spent hours before dinner trying to swim to Second Island,” Ryoma said, grinning as he took another sip of his hot tea. “Ever swum for hours, Akamatsu?”

“Nope,” Kaede replied. As was probably very evident by what her pink swimsuit showed, her talent didn’t lead to much athletic endeavor. Or regular exercise. “But I can imagine. That’s incredible, Hina. Oh, I can call you Hina, right?”

“Call me anything you like,” She replied, peppy and bright. “I’m not picky, but yeah. Ryoma’s right. I got bored and decided to see if I could get past Usami’s rules the old-fashioned way. But uh, that was a major no-go.”

“Hina never saw another island,” Sakura said, shaking her head solemnly. “And, I will add, nearly lost track of where First Island was. I believe that if she was not the Ultimate Swimmer, and born to the sea, she could have very well been lost. Adrift with nothing but ocean around her. She would have become exhausted, and sank beneath the waves.” With that, she fixed a serious glare at Hina, who rubbed the back of her head, sending her upwards-pointed dark brown ponytail flopping around. Thus reminding Kaede of Tenko’s rant.

“Yeah. Sakura was there when I pulled myself onto the beachfront and collapsed. She helped me back to the Hotel. And then, afterwards, had some serious words for me.”

“In her defense, it is weird,” Ryoma said, producing a cigarette, and putting it in his mouth. He had nothing to light it, and Ryoma claimed they were fake anyhow. Considering his past. Kaede wasn’t sure if she believed that. “I mean, did it feel like we were walkin’ for hours over those bridges, Akamatsu?”

“Definitely not,” Kaede said, shaking her head. “In fact, that’s impossible. It takes a little while, but I thought something was odd, too. Based on how far we have to walk, I’d say we should be able to see at least some of the other islands from our current position.”

She swept her hand out towards the roiling, crashing waves and drooping evening sun. There was nothing on the horizon but water. No boats coming to save them, no planes to notice a signal fire, and certainly no landmasses.

If nothing else, the oldest rule of being lost, pick a direction on a road and go that way, should have yielded results. But if Hina couldn’t just follow the bridges and get to the other islands...

“It is just another reason that this situation is too strange to trust,” Sakura said. “Hina and Ryoma both agree. So, we would like to offer our services to your crew. That is, if you and Kaito will have us.”

Kaede smiled, and felt a surge of relief about Sakura in particular. And then, a little prickle of guilt for getting so intimidated, so quickly. She even stuck up for Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, to some degree. As well as the obvious one, Ryoma. But because Sakura looked far more dangerous and powerful, Kaede had let her animal brain get the better of her in that small way. She banished the thought. “Kaito said that the more, the merrier. I totally agree. The three of you all have talents we’ll need, if we have to make a move.”

“Heh. These two ladies, sure. But I’m not sure how a few rousing matches of tennis will help us, boss,” Ryoma said. “Even if they would, you know I hung up the racket after what happened.”

Much like Shuichi’s hat, it was a situation that was very much not up for discussion.

“Even so, Ryoma, you’ve got a lot to offer to our group,” Kaede said. “I mean, I’m sorry to bring it up, but you have been a prisoner before, right? While our prison area is striking and grand, when you boil it down, we’re basically in captivity too. You’re bound to have insights that’ll be really important for us.”

“Even if you say that, I’ve still got a ways to go before anyone should rely on me.”

Hina patted him on the back, and he nearly fell over. “C’mon, Ryoma. Pretty girls are praising you! The least you can do is show some spirit!”

“Yay,” he replied, pulling his skull-cap down further in a very familiar gesture.

“Good effort.” Kaede said polite goodbyes to the resting athletes, and wondered further into the Degenerate Male Exclusion Zone.

A gorgeous blonde princess in a full-body wetsuit immediately enlisted in the crew as well, as soon as Kaede introduced herself, claiming Hajime could vouch for her. Not that the Ultimate Princess, Sonia Nevermind, really needed anybody else to vouch for her. It was probably the other way around. Kaede couldn’t say no, though. She ended up with more recruits as she moved among the girls. She greeted those she had yet to meet, and checked in with the people she already knew from earlier.

Kaede did the math, and realized that the crew was approaching half the entire population of the islands.

Rantaro saw her approach, and smiled, waving. Without a shirt on, and just wearing white swimming trunks, he didn't look half bad. While he had the same lanky thing going on as Shuichi, he was a little more healthy, in skin tone and figure. There was more to him. Which was fitting, given that the amnesiac guy with avocado-green wavy sex hair seemed to always be deeper than he was letting on. Or at least, he never laid out all his cards on the table. Unlike some others, like the two Byakuya Togamis who moved around together on the beach, bossing people around and fleeing in turn from their two admirers, Fukawa and that punk rock girl, Ibuki.

Rantaro didn’t act in such a manner. Kaede had to admit, if there was a ‘degenerate male’ who didn’t seem like a ‘threat’, it was him. He did have quite a forceful stare, though, even when he was just relaxing among friends. “Hey, Kaede. Making the rounds?”

“Yep,” She confirmed .”Honestly, we need to get introduced to the other Ultimates anyway. I bet by tomorrow, we’ll be able to go to Second Island and investigate more!”

“Count me in,” He said, barely even having to look at the task before him. He was helping Mahiru Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer, do her nails. The redhead was relaxing in one of Usami’s standard, generic swimsuits, and her big camera was still to hand, should she be inspired. From the piles of photos laid out already on her beach blanket, Kaede saw she had been hard at work, but was now enjoying a break.

“Not bad,” Mahiru admitted, when she got her hands back and looked over the deep red. It perfectly matched the color of her own shortish hair. “For a boy, you’re really skilled at this. I could end up thinking of you as Dependable Rantaro, especially once you recover memories of your talent.”

“I’ll do my best,” Rantaro said, rubbing the back of his head, and laughing.

Kaede took her leave, and quietly realized why seeing the two of them together wasn’t so surprising. From what she’d already gathered about the mysterious striped-shirted boy, he had a comforting, mature vibe to him, like an older brother. And Hajime described Mahiru’s conduct as like a belligerent older-sister type.

They just had entirely different ways to go about handling their ‘younger siblings’, the other Ultimates.

“Kaede! I’m super glad to see you out getting some sun! Oh, and looking so divine, as well~” A familiar voice called out, and then one of her classmates ran into her arms and gave her a friendly hug. Kaede didn’t need to recognize the cheerful, upbeat voice, or even notice the distinctive white fluffy hair, to realize that she was being hugged by Angie Yonaga, the Ultimate Artist.

The one girl who was always dressed for the beach. The dark-skinned, wide, pear-shaped girl had her usual cute white bikini set and skirt on, underneath her yellow open jacket. The bright colors accented her naturally dark skin tone, which, along with her accent and name, gave away that she was from somewhere… else.

An island, fittingly enough.

“I was thinking about what you asked earlier, Kaede!”

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

‘Well, I figured now was a good time to at least answer one thing. I do, in fact, feel a little… overdressed sometimes. In fact, right now, I think everyone has too much clothing! That’s my own personal taste, not Atua’s judgement. But Atua does totes agree with me too.”

That was entirely contradictory, but many of the things that Angie said about her god didn’t quite square up. Especially when compared with other, earlier statements.

Kaede was too busy being incredulous, as she looked around at so much bare skin. Heck, all she had to do was look down and see her own body. Much as she might wish to avoid doing that. “Really?”

“Ah, that disbelieving look on your face, Kaede. Is it really so strange? I think now is the perfect time to talk about how everyone wears too much. I mean, we’re on the beach! In a lovely, tropical paradise! Everyone should shed those inhibitions and do what comes naturally! Cause Atua says so!”

Kaede’s natural impulse was to dismiss the lively girl’s opinion, but she could have a point. Angie’s people had adapted to living on that island for what sounded like countless generations. While it was unlikely the Ultimates would wind up founding a new island kingdom, it did seem more and more likely that they were in it for the long haul on Gopher Island.

Things were bound to get loose and informal as everyone got to know each other, and the heat made big, bulky outfits impractical. Thinking of where that all might go made Kaede uncomfortable, so she said yet more polite goodbyes. And also politely refused to convert.

Again.

“Aww, okay. I understand, Kaede. Some people just need longer to come to the truth. If you’re ever interested, Atua is here. Always waiting, like a patient lover. Or like a stalker. Nyahaha! The first one probably sounds better… So yeah! Like a lover.”

Great.

“Bye-onara!~”

As Kaede passed nearby to Junko’s group, she waved to the Ultimate Fashionista, who waved back without moving. Kaede also heard Tsumugi mutter something about ‘normies’ and landmines as she watched Rantaro doing Mahiru’s nails. It was probably just another reference nobody got.

Having to dodge the odd high wave from increasingly turbulent seas, Kaede picked out the sound of Kazuichi’s voice, still bantering back and forth with the other guys behind that rock, and she headed for it. There was some panic when they spotted her approach, but apparently, she was low on the cooties threat index. Kazuichi motioned for her to come over and talk with them covertly.

Kaede preferred to stand, thanks. “Hey there, guys.”

Kazuichi’s expression brightened up. “Kaede, perfect timing! We could totally use your help-”

‘Ah, first, let’s do introductions,” she suggested, palm up. “Then I’ll hear you out.”

All of the guys, save for Korekiyo in the back, were dressed for swimming. Trunks and nothing else. A highly acceptable look for boys to have. Their body types ranged from the Ultimate Anthropologist Kiyo back there with his long, flowing black hair and strangely feminine vibe, to some strong, well-built muscular frames, like Kazuichi’s. Clearly built for manual labor and trained off hard work. She was surprised not to see grease stains over his body. His very soul probably had motor oil on it, from the way he always went on about machines.

While she recognized the other two guys from their appearances alone, they’d never met. And were happy to stand up and stop pretending to take cover behind the rock, since it was tough on the knees to crouch and be tactical.

Tenko clearly saw them already, although she paced back and forth like a caged kung-fu tiger, alert for any degeneracy, not just their gathering of it.

“Yo,” The redhead with spiky, styled hair decided to introduce himself first. “The name’s Leon Kuwata, and people call me the Ultimate Baseball Star. I’m trying to branch out into new talents like artistic stuff, so look forward to me making a big splash in the music scene” He grinned, and gave her a wink that doubtless won over countless sports fangirls at his middle and high school.

And nationwide. Leon was enough of a celebrity that even Kaede had seen some of him, even though her interest in sports was minimal. Like Ryoma, he’d reached the level of pop cultural osmosis. Although thankfully, not for the same reason. “Awesome. I think it’s great that even if you already have an Ultimate talent, you’re not just resting on your heels.” They weren’t likely to start wheeling out a piano in the middle of halftime for a performance, though.

Wait, that wasn’t even the right sport.

Was it?

“Too right,” Leon nodded. “I mean, people usually know me from those old photos they took during like, high school games. So they’re a little surprised with my new style.”

Yep, it was definitely Leon’s deeper, masculine voice Kaede had heard earlier, talking about hanging out with Ibuki. The two probably made some seriously crazy music. Kaede made a mental note to politely refuse any invitations to perform together. Ever.

“Just bear in mind that there is a sharp dividing line between things one enjoys, and things one is good at,” Korekiyo reminded him playfully, glancing down at the pocketwatch on his elaborate, Imperial-era uniform getup.

Even among the Ultimates, it was quite a costume, like something a war reenactor would put on. Except it seemed to be his constant outfit. Its dark-green murky color and the mysterious old kanji etched onto it, along with the red armband, all symbolized other times and places, which was where Kiyo prefered to keep his head at all times. He even concealed his own lower face beneath a black leather mask with a zipper, and his long hair combined with everything else to give in a distinctive, and dangerous, appearance.

Kaede had found him difficult to understand, and frankly a little creepy.

Okay, a lot creepy. Sometimes the cover of the book was accurate, and it took exactly one conversation to find that out, like Kaede had done earlier. Seeing him there lined up with the rest of the Degenerate Brigade did a little to melt that impression. Even if it was clear he was less a participant, and more a witness to that ‘beauty of humanity’ he kept going on about.

“Tch. I’d get annoyed at that kind of smartass remark. But you’re not wrong. Kaede, you’re big into music, right?”

“You could say that,” Kaede nodded, even as she mentally picked out which piano number to compare each boy to. The selection she picked out for Leon, on first impressions, was a lively, energetic song with a fast tempo, that seemed to almost go out of the composer’s control a few times while it was being written. A brash, fiery spirit, perfectly matching that red hair. “Classical music only, though. Is that your thing?”

“Ah, nah. Not really.” Naturally, as a star athlete, he was built solidly and, combined with a bit of facial hair, a particularly masculine guy. As he said, his hair gave off a more wild-side impression, but a dash of that could be seriously sexy, too. If you were into that sort of thing.

Last, but hopefully not least, was a guy who looked a bit older than the others. Perhaps mid-twenties. He had a healthy tan, and wild brown hair that looked a bit like it had exploded.

“Yo,” He said. “I’ve heard about you, Kaede. And you’ve no doubt heard of me too, right?” The guy’s voice was mature, as expected. Although he was very chilled-out, with a languid tone reminiscent of old stereotypes about surfer-boys.

Kaede stared for a few moments, torn between the truth or a comforting lie. Finding the truth, and being honest, was always better, right? Wasn’t it? Luckily, Kiyo in back relieved her of that decision. “Unlikely. She didn’t do as much research on her prospective classmates as Makoto or Nagito did. Unlike their wide, if shallow, approaches, she prefers to fixate on a single goal, and all else fades away.”

Yep, that was her. Just a Piano Freak.

“Oh, fair enough, dude! In that case, my name is Yasuhiro Hagakure! Hiro to my friends, ‘Sensei’ to my thousands of inspired devotees! What brought all those lucrative followers to me? HPA scouted me for one reason, and one reason only!”

That was becoming clear.

“My incredible connection to the spirit realm! I’m called the Ultimate Clairvoyant. I see through the mysteries of life, sister, and into our futures.”

Kaede was taken aback. “Wow. If Hope’s Peak officially recognized you for that sort of talent, then that must mean…”

Leon sighed. “Don’t get too excited. Hiro here is a fine case of ‘read the fine print’.”

“Hey! The heck’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Tell her of your prediction guarantee,” Kiyo suggested, again deciding to examine his watch, and whatever was in it, in lieu of watching the conversation unfold.

“Oh, right! Good idea, then she’ll understand! So, Kaede. Whenever you decide to get a reading from me, you’re in good spiritual hands! Because I guarantee my predictions are completely accurate, and that’s been proven in labs and stuff!”

That was astonishing-

“Thirty percent of the time!”

“ _The look._ The look that everyone gives at this stage is truly spectacular to behold,” Kiyo said, rumbling quietly in the back of the group and laughing to himself in that particularly odd manner. “Kukuku.”

Hiro picked up on the issue, too. “Hey! I know to a lay-dudette, that might sound underwhelming. But a like, totally real scientist guy told me that thirty percent was way above the norm.”

“As in, what a normal person could do, picking randomly?” Kiyo asked. “Yes, that is the baseline of any experiment that sets out to test the validity of, well. This whole business. Not to imply I don’t respect those sorts of research, of course. Anthropology is not just about cold, hard facts, it must involve the faiths, beliefs, and spiritual concerns of culture, as well."

“Yeah, dude! I mean, a normal person could only get, like, twenty-five percent!”

Kaede laughed nervously. “Well, I mean. The fact that you got higher than the norm means that you’ve definitely got some kind of power, right?”

“Assuming the tests were conducted in a correct manner. Double-blinded, following randomized control procedures and ethical conduct,” Kiyo qualified. “Then perhaps.”

Sheesh.

“I mean, is anyone really free of faults? We should forgive people when they get it wrong, anyhow,” Hiro said with a great big friendly smile.

“Anyway,” Kaede said. “Now that we’ve all got those Fragments, you can explain what the heck you’re doing.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kazuichi laughed. “We’re trying to pick up chicks!”

Kaede honestly didn’t expect them to just come out and say it to her face. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Leon agreed. “And we’d love your help, Kaede!”

Perhaps seeing the expression on her face, Kazuichi added, “And maybe you still owe me a little bit for that assist back there? I mean, c’mon. I was super useful, right? Please?”

That was the start of Operation Enduring Babe Hunt, Act 2, Revenge of the Poor Social Skills.

Co-starring a bemused and exasperated Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist.

She was swept up in the eternal drive of some men. The force that pushed them forward, the ambition that kept them going in darkest winter or brightest summer.

The one, all-consuming directive of life itself.

The need to get some.


	8. 0-8. The Ultimate Beach Party III (Kaede)

Kaede wondered if her situation was due to fate.

Maybe it was some kind of weird destiny that brought them together on this island. Perhaps everything just arranged itself a certain way. Even if everyone was starting from nothing, they would end up in the same place.

Maybe this had all happened before, and would happen again.

Well, a bunch of frat boys trying to pick up chicks on the beach would, in fact, doubtless happen again. Over, and over, and over. Until the end of the human race.

It could have even been Atua’s will, for all Kaede really knew.  
  
So there she was, roped into helping one such group of rowdy college boys achieve their ultimate objective. Honestly, they didn’t have to try so hard to convince her.

If nothing else, it was bound to be more interesting than sitting around.

“So, what do you need from me? Are you all going to try and raise my social link, and romance me instead?”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Tch. More like, we need your help distracting that guard dog so we can slip in.”

Kaede sighed, even though she was expecting that. Sometimes a nice lie would have been better than the cold, unvarnished truth. Their behavior clearly indicated that the boys didn’t consider her a valid subject of adoration. Well, the feeling was mutual! That’s what everyone told themselves, right?

In addition to a Piano Freak, she was clearly just one of the boys.

Even then, even in her swimsuit. Which she'd been worrying so much about.

The way the guys treated her in that moment helped her realize that a lot of her worrying about wearing the dang pink bikini was silly. Well, it was the final straw. The other girls treated her normally. Heck, Fukawa, that weird author, had literally hissed at her earlier. Clearly, to that girl, she was, as Tsumugi would put it, a ‘normie’.

Her concerns over her body, the outfit, being in public, being looked at… it wasn’t like any of it went away. She still felt tense being in front of all those guys. Even if they weren’t looking at her that way.

But it put her into the right frame of mind to surprise them all, and say, “Yeah, sure. I’m in.”

As she explained, “I do agree. I owe you a little bit more, Kazuichi. So I’ll help you out with this, and then we’ll call it even. So, listen up, boys. Briefing time.”

The guys began to pay her much more attention. Which was bothersome in one sense, but amusing in another. She was sure that Hiro, Leon, and perhaps Kazuichi had never attended a teacher or professor’s words as much as they intently listened to her. Kazuichi and Leon were born and raised with the skills they would use to be mega-successes and Ultimates. So why bother with academics? And Hiro was Hiro, so why bother with academics?

“Ahem. Let’s go over the mission, step by step.” Dramatic theme music started playing in her mind, perhaps something with guitar riffs. She laid things out mentally, storybook style. Frame by frame. “Operation Enduring Babe Hunt, Act 2. The objective is to get each of you in to talk with the girls, one by one or all together. And in the process, not get any of you a one-way ticket to Suplex City. The simplest way to get you guys past the defense is a distraction. Since it’s really just one girl who’s kind of mad at all guys for reasons I have yet to determine.

So! There’s a critical weakness in this one-woman fence, that we’ll climb to victory. Tenko said they’re going to change the guard in around half an hour. Figure fifteen minutes from now. When she looks like she’s going to go tag in Peko, I’ll chat her up, and you guys can do whatever.”

“Oh man, Kaede! You’re our heroine!” Kazuichi praised her, his eyes unnerving and intense as he no doubt thought of a certain other blonde princess.

No, she wasn’t their heroine. But that was okay. Honestly, it was probably for the best.

“Oh, but my help has a price. You can’t just keep bothering the girls, like you’ve been doing. You can talk with them or ask them out or whatever, but asking means you accept that they might say ‘no’, and you’ll go away rather than pestering them or making them feel all weird about it.”

“Hey, what makes you think we’d be weird about it?!” Leon demanded, indignant. Color rose in his face.

“Because they told me you were. I was over there. There is a reason they all formed a freaking defensive perimeter like we’re on Omaha Beach. And the reason is this. You’re validating all those terrible things Tenko says about ‘ _men_ aces’ and ‘ _degenerate males_ ’ when you act like cavemen.”

“Please don’t lump me in with the rest,” Kiyo asked politely, but firmly. “I am grateful that they allow me to observe, but my approach to people is different. I would much rather establish the solid bonds of friendship, before going after… base concerns.”

Kaede found that surprising enough that her voice started out higher than normal. At least it was a pleasant surprise. Maybe, like Sakura over there, Kaede had just allowed appearances to get in the way of seeing through to the real person underneath. “There! You see, Kiyo’s actually a surprisingly good example? Of how to like, treat girls? I’m sorry I sort of made assumptions that you’d be a creeper, Kiyo.”

“It happens a lot,” he said, hugging himself and striking a fashion-model pose. “I’ve just decided to own it. You needn’t worry.”

“Now, the rest of you! Do you agree to my terms?”

Hiro said, “Of course we do! We’re gonna turn over a new leaf, Kaede! Just watch, it’ll be totally different this time, babe. We’re gonna be like, friendly and shit.”

“And respectful of women,” Leon added. “Totally.”

Kazuichi nodded. “If we have to.”

Her ‘deal’ was really more like the basic expectation of how a human being should behave. If Usami was serious about looking out for everyone, and being their professor, she’d be the one giving these kinds of lectures. Harsh words, even in service of a good cause, just didn’t seem to be that rabbit’s style.

All the boys did agree, though. They had little choice. Kaede stuck around with them, comparing notes on the people they shared the island with, until the appointed time.

Time to go flirt with a girl.

When it was Tenko, things weren’t difficult. Both the receiver, and the sender, were receptive. Kaede just had to voice the things she thought about Tenko’s fit body and generous chest. Or her devotion and dedication and hard working nature. She could even honestly praise that oversized green bow in her long hair, it was cute and distinct.

The Ultimate Pianist didn’t find it hard at all to distract Tenko from making the shift change, and thus allowing the Degenerate Brigade to start their operation.

If anything, overhearing their attempts with her talent was far more distracting. It was tough to not break out laughing as Kazuichi lead the charge with gusto and drive, Leon bragged about how indie and underground he was, and Hiro languished and tried his own laid-back, confident, style.

And all three struck out. Hard.

At least when they got back to the rock, each of them in turn could get ribbed by the other guys. And Kiyo could explain some of the flaws in their approaches, using that pesky thing called ‘logic’. Then, refining their techniques and addressing flaws, they could go back out and try somebody else.

And strike out. Hard.

All while Tenko turned more and more red, as Kaede had to get more forceful and assertive to distract her from her surprisingly strong sense of duty. Eventually, even asking Tenko out on an actual date, although of course she phrased it more gal-pal, couldn’t divert the martial artist from her sworn duty.

Or maybe Kaede just pushed a little too hard, or got a little too close and friendly.

“Aaaah, um, T-T-Tenko does not want to be rude, but Tenko doesn’t deserve any of the wonderful things you’re saying… A-And Tenko really should go tell Miss Pekoyama that she’s on duty now. Please understand! T-Tenko’s heart isn’t prepared! Dynamic exit!”

Off she went, like a blushing maiden with no experience with that sort of thing. In fact, exactly like that. Except the maiden also had legs like tree trunks, and her running kicked up massive plumes of sand with each step.

Kaede had no way to warn the guys that their operational window was closing, but they got the message when they heard

 _**“You...** _ **men** _**aces!”** _

And then three guys ran for their lives across the length of Tranquility Beach. While everyone watched, and some made bets. In fact, Peko joined the pursuit, as well, since she was technically the one on duty. Kaede was certain she also saw Mukuro, moving at an incredible, ninja-like speed, going after them.

While Junko laughed her ass off, just dying on her towel beside a baffled Tsumugi. Well, that explained her sister’s interest in the matter.

To be fair, Kaede found it amusing, too.

She did eventually make sure nobody actually was killed or beaten horribly. Usami was, for all her fluffy talk, on top of that situation with a few of the huge robots as a deterrent. Peko eventually had to be the one to get Tenko to back off, though, dragging her back towards the girls.

Many spectators wanted to see the three warrior girls fight each other, instead. Hiyoko and Kokichi loudly shouted encouragement to that effect. No dice.

What a tiring situation. Kaede wasn’t even the one who ran around, and she was still exhausted. It also occurred to her afterwards that if she hadn’t agreed to help with their plan, the boys might not have had a close scrape with oblivion itself. Then again, if they didn’t have Kaede, the operation would have probably gone forward anyway, just with far less success. At least that way, they had the chance to try, and strike out on their own.

On the whole, she felt less guilty, and more just worn out. Today left her drained, and glad for a bit of time to chill out. Just a bit of alone time, even if she was surrounded by others.

After all, she’d finally filled the last gaps in her Hope Fragment collection. Kaede was at last free to relax. A few minutes sitting by the water, watching the distant stormy weather and feeling the cool ocean breeze, was good for her. She didn't talk to anybody, she didn’t have to make any social links.

She just sat there, her and nature, in all its beauty and worrying power on the horizon.

Then she got bored of that, and darker thoughts crept into the edges of her mind once she was inactive, just like those gathering clouds. If she stopped moving entirely, then she’d violate the group’s other agreement tonight, and start dwelling on things she couldn’t fix, or even impact, tonight.

She knew exactly what her next goal was going to be. It was time to find Shuichi.

However, before she got far, Kaede was surprised to find the crew’s ace detective alone, heading over towards her instead. Looking sheepish, as usual. Although Kaede only processed why when he got closer, and she tracked his deep grey eyes, and where they were going.

The two shared a moment of mutual awkwardness as both of them got acutely aware of Kaede’s swimsuit.

While she’d become more comfortable in her own skin by interacting with others, and grown in her confidence, she suddenly remembered all the skin she was displaying. No more than any other regular bikini, but it was still a lot more than her sweater-vest and skirt.

Shuichi, in turn, tried to vanish inside of his hat. “Hello, Kaede.”

“Hey, Shuichi,” she replied, trying to push on and shove her sudden onset of nervousness aside. “So, what do you think? Tsumugi actually found a design at the supermarket that fits me great,” Kaede said, laughing. “Theme-wise, at least. I hope I don’t look silly in it.”

“Definitely not,” Shuichi replied, shaking his head. “You look really good, actually.” Then they were both blushing again, fiercely. Her earlier swell of confidence was draining fast.

Why couldn’t she just act like she did with Tenko, and say what was really on her mind? Why this extra layer of awkwardness? Was it just because he was a guy she was closer to?

“H-How’s the mission? Where did Chihiro and Mikan get off to?” Kaede asked, trying to change the subject and give herself some emotional breathing room. Plus, she was curious. And even though Kaito’s words still rang in her ears, she was more than a little concerned.

“Ah, right. We completed the introductions. Then they said I should go over and report to you, and pushed me away all of a sudden. I don’t know what I even did wrong.”

Kaede clapped her hands together in delight. She made a mental note to thank the two shy girls for giving their cute detective boy a push in the right direction. “I’m sure it’s not worth worrying about, they’re just weird. Nice work anyhow, Shuichi. I’m sure trying to get them to talk to other people was kind of a nightmare. But you totally did it.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m much better. I know how they feel,” Shuichi said with a shrug, looking away. His face was still scarlet. “Even if I’ve gotten a little better at working with people, just because investigations often require it.”

She didn’t bother to point out that Mikan was a nurse, which was a job that couldn’t exist without patients to interact with. It was Shuichi being positive instead of a negative nancy, and so it was acceptable.

Kaede smiled. “We’ve done our job this evening, but I wonder if you’d do one more little mission for me?”

“Um, sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I was just wondering if you’d like to, like, walk with me. We can check out the island, walk through the forest area, you know. Just talking about stuff. If you want. I understand if you’re tired and want to pull up a beach chair…”

‘No! Um, I mean. It’s no problem, Kaede. Maybe we missed some clues somewhere.”

Very unlikely, given that almost fifty people had combed every square centimeter of First Island up and down, all day. But Kaede was willing to play those odds. Especially since she had some good company along for the journey.

“So,” Kaede said, striking up conversation as they moved up the path off the beach and onto the main road ringing First Island. “What does the Ultimate Detective do in an average day, anyhow?” She grinned. “Do you smoke a pipe, stroke your chin, and say things like ‘Indeed, fascinating’?”

Shuichi shook his head. “I guess I’m old enough to smoke, come to think of it. But I never would. My uncle has a pipe. Having to deal with that smell all the time while growing up. Ugh. I’ve never felt the urge to try it.”

“Sometimes you need a bad example to keep you on the straight and narrow, I guess.” For no particular reason, Operation Enduring Babe Hunt came to mind. “Oh, is your uncle a great detective, too?”

“Yes. He runs a detective agency, and I cut my teeth by working there. Starting in middle school, when that thing happened I mentioned earlier. The case I happened to stumble on, and happened to solve.”

“That’s a heck of a thing to ‘just’ do!”

“Yeah, my uncle said that, too. Ever since then, it’s been a detective’s life for me. Destined for greatness, he said.” That tone of bitterness in Shuichi’s words was concerning.

“Shuichi, if you don’t mind, can we talk more about-”

“Oh, hey! Kaede and Shuichi, together again! There’s a shock.”

Ahead of them on the path which led back to the rest of the island stood a certain purple-haired liar boy. He still had his scarf on, and his pants, so he hadn’t changed into a swimsuit. However, he was now distinctly lacking a shirt. Instead, he carried two copies of his jacket, one under each arm. The sight was strange enough to bring Kaede up short, mentally.

And get Shuichi blushing something fierce again.

“Wow, Kaede. I’m shocked. You look really good in that bikini. It’s really flattering for your figure.”

Kaede folded her arms. “Yeah?”

“That’s a lie, of course. You really should lose some weight, girl.”

Kaede started chanting sutras in the back of her mind, but it didn’t help much. It did give her something to focus on, and get her fists to unclench a little bit. “Should I even bother asking why you don’t have a shirt on, but are carrying shirts? For that matter, where did you even get more of your own outfit?”

“Oh, right. You’ve been too busy bossing other people around all day to go back to your cabin. Usami totally provided us each with a bunch of our favorite clothing. And a washing machine apiece for the class hotels. Can’t have been cheap.”

Shuichi held a hand over his mouth. “She did? That’s considerate. It wasn’t just copies of our outfits?”

“Well, as you can see, there was some of that. But also others were actual clothing we own. I recognized some t-shirts. Down to the wear and tear and stains. So they got our clothing.” Kokichi tapped his mouth. “Isn’t that super weird?”

“Just add it to the pile,” Kaede sighed. “Assuming you’re not just lying again.”

“Yeah, I guess since it’s me, you should keep on your toes.”

“How about that lack of a shirt?”

“So persistent, Kaede. Are you checking me out? In front of your boytoy, too.”

Kaede glared and took a step forward. Her patience was, in fact, now completely exhausted after a long day. Kokichi always knew just where to punch. The softest underbelly to strike. Or in her case, just her soft normal belly... “If you’re going to be a bratty little kid, I’ll teach you some manners myself.”

“Whoa! Hey, we’re all besties here, right?” His question was greeted with a stony silence that spoke volumes. “Sheesh. Tough crowd. I just need to raise the stakes, that’s all. Or rather, come up with anything more to bet.”

“You’re still challenging Celestia?” Shuichi asked.

Kokichi nodded. “Of course.”

‘But she’s the Ultimate Gambler,” Kaede said.

“Well, yeah. But that’s what makes it so _awesome_.” Kokichi pumped his fists as much as he could manage, leaning forward. “I totally won a duel after you left, Shuichi.”

“How many games did you lose?” Shuichi asked.

‘That hardly seems important.” Kokichi examined his nails like they’d become the most fascinating thing in the universe in the last two seconds.

“Well, it’s your own stuff,” Kaede shrugged. “Suit yourself. Literally. It keeps you out of everyone else’s hair, too, so by all means, have fun. Just try to keep your pants on.”

Kokichi looked at Kaede, then back to Shuichi, then back and forth a few more times. He generated the biggest shit-eating grin that Kaede had ever seen in her entire life.

_“Same to you~”_

Having reached the point where he was actually going to get backhanded, and encumbered by his clothing to the point of not being able to fight back, Kokichi took a hasty retreat. He headed for Tranquility Beach. Kaede was glad to see him go.

“Usami! I’m being bullied! Extreme violence is about to ensue! Protect meeeee!”

Shuichi spoke up. “Kaede, I know he’s a jerk. But it probably wouldn’t do for a leader to go around smacking people. C'mon, everyone's just had a really long day. Plus, he's not even in the crew anyway.”

“Oh, you hadn’t heard, Shuichi? Kaito and I are going to conquer this whole island. And then everyone will have to listen to us. And when we do, Rule 1 will be ‘don’t be an asshole’.”

“That might be difficult to enforce.”

Kaede and Shuichi continued their walk, and it was quite relaxing to just walk at a slow pace, wandering about. Kaede was able to breathe, and get back to something approaching calm. She paid little attention to their surroundings, and more to listening Shuichi recount the tale of his first ever case.

He helped a girl recover her lost pet.

An alligator.

A small one, but even so.

“In all honesty, that case was exceptional. Most detective work is pretty boring,” Shuichi said. “Legwork, trailing people, staking places out, and paperwork. Dear lord, the paperwork. Looking through documents, writing reports. We have to follow up on a lot of cases, too, like the ones involving people running away from home.”

“Like, to make sure the problems that made them run away aren’t still going on?”

“Exactly. Otherwise, they’ll just end up running again.”

“I didn’t know you did that kind of thing. Actually, to be honest, I never put the concepts of ‘detective’ and ‘compassion’ together until now.”

Shuichi glanced away. “It’s my uncle’s policy more than anything. Well, I do support it, too. It’s a way to help even out the balance for what we do.”

Before Kaede could ask him what he meant by that, they ran across significantly more welcome company.

“Oh, hey, guys!”

Sayaka waved in delight to them as they approached from the opposite side of the path, with Makoto in tow. It seemed like he had a tough time keeping up with her long strides, given that he might have actually been shorter overall.

Or he was deliberately keeping a pace behind, because Sayaka was, unsurprisingly, trying out her lovely swimsuit, as she’d said earlier. The blue-haired idol was actually far more covered up than Junko or Tsumugi, and her outfit had a dash more class. It was a white bikini, with ruffles and layers, but a lot was added to the picture by the inclusion of a sarong tied around her wide, sturdy hourglass hips.

Her figure was, like everything else about her, flawless. Devoid of the blemishes and stretch marks and spots and blotches of an average person. Every Ultimate at Hope’s Peak was exceptional in some way, and Sayaka’s talent was in being an archetype.

She wasn’t ‘too showy or bold’ like Miu, or Junko. She wasn’t ‘too forceful or aggressive’, like Tenko or Mahiru. She had ample curves, but wasn’t like Kaede or Mikan, with ‘too much’. She was athletic, and soft, all at once. It was likely the result of both good training and good genetics. And a lot of work. The process of becoming a top idol had clearly forged Sayaka Maizono into more of an ideal than a real person.

Kaede never had more reason for baleful envy then right at that moment. The fact that Sayaka had been nothing but a friend to her, and an important part of the crew, helped fight those feelings off. Her experiences today meant that Kaede wasn’t quite so consumed in worries. Instead, she could just shrug it off, mentally. Some people were just built differently than others.

Kaede was many things to many people. But she wouldn’t be a hypocrite, and be mad at somebody who only had smiles and kind words for her. Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol, the national celebrity, was one of them. End of story.

“Good to see you again,” Makoto said, a smile on his face. “Oh ho. Walking together, huh?”

Sayaka approached, and took the other woman’s hand, looking her dead-on in the eye. “You have my full support, Kaede. Never lose sight of your goal for even one second. And take swift, decisive action. That’s how to do it.”

Kaede’s blush returned, full-force. The other train of thought she had about Sayaka revolved around how attractive she was, and a close encounter wasn’t going to help her calm down from that. Plus, Kaede was baffled at this abrupt attitude shift. “That came out of nowhere, sheesh. I can’t even follow what you’re talking about.”

“Ehe. Sorry.” Sayaka let go, and backed off, returning to her normal mode in an instant. Thus confirming how much of an effort it took to be Sayaka Maizono, as Kaede could almost physically see her exerting herself to hit every note, make every expression and slight movement, in the ideal manner. “Anyhow. We’re no better, huh? Sneaking away from the beach party just so we can talk about our past, Makoto.”

The hope egg rubbed the back of his head. Kaede most certainly didn’t detect the same clever guile around him. Although being honest was far from a bad thing in a guy; Shuichi was basically made of truth. If only he could reach out more. “I guess not. We shouldn’t tease them, then.”

“Ooh. Let’s group up,” Sayaka suggested.

Kaede might have wanted to continue that conversation with Shuichi, but there was plenty of time. In fact, on these islands, it looked like time was the one resource they’d truly never run out of. That, and sand. So much freaking sand.

There was really no reason to refuse, so the four started back down the path, side by side.

“Oh, this reminds me. I found something, you guys might like it. Sayaka, let’s show them the place.”

“Good idea! It looks like the sun is about to set. We’ll get a first-class view.”

When the four approached Makoto’s alleged lookout point, they were not disappointed.

A side path ran through the forest, branching off the main road. Even though it wasn’t designated as a landmark on the map, it was still accessible and easy to find, but felt secluded. Certainly, nothing of the island or the beach could be seen as they went inwards, surrounded by dense trees. Finally, they reached the spot, a clearing on the edge.

A pair of benches had been placed side-by-side. They faced the edge of the cliffs ringing the island. That was cordoned off by rotting ropes and bent wooden posts. At least the benches were in decent shape.

Thanks to the setting sun, low in the sky but bright, it was easy to tell. This particular vantage point was positioned perfectly to watch the sunset over the open ocean. The water itself glittered and glinted, reflecting different angles as the waves intensified. Earlier in the day, they were gentle, but as storm clouds continued to gather, the waves grew more intense.

It was a painting. At that, it was an artistic exercise in balance and extremes. A mix of the calm, warm glow of sunset, combined with the oncoming storm and chaos. They were both present in the beautiful outlook unfolding before them.

Two guys were also present, sitting on one of the benches.

Kaede easily recognized that fluffy white cloud of hair. She stepped closer, and confirmed it. Nagito and Hajime were leaning against each other, and had fallen asleep. Both boys were still in swim trunks, although Nagito had his green jacket on over it. They bickered and bantered whenever Kaede saw them, but in that moment, they looked so peaceful.

Before Shuichi could even finish suggesting they find another place to hang out, Kaede brought fingers against both cheeks. “Poke, poke.”

Nagito awoke gracefully, yawning and stretching out before looking over his shoulder at the blonde. Hajime, less so. He jumped, startled into nearly falling out of his seat. And, to Sayaka’s audible and Kaede’s private disappointment, the boys disentangled. When he rounded on Kaede, his face was flushed red.

“Oh, it’s you guys.”

“Yep,” Kaede said, smiling mischievously. “You’re lucky Mahiru or Kokichi weren’t the ones to stumble across this romantic little sight. Or you’d never hear the end of it.”

“So, how’s the beach party going?” Nagito asked, a touch too fast for his normal pacing and diction. “Have you been nurturing plenty of hope?”

Kaede considered the question for a moment. “Honestly? Not bad. The morning and lunch were hectic, for sure. But in the evening, it feels like everything’s starting to finally settle down. Minus the weather.”

“What luck,” Makoto sighed. “Usami says it’s going to be the first storm in a hundred years or something.”

“Have a seat if you want, guys,” Nagito offered. “I’m sure not going inside until this lovely sunset is over.”

“Plus, this is a great chance for us to catch up.”

All of them produced their Hope Pads, and confirmed that they had advanced from Level 0 to Level 1. That meant they’d met every single person on this island. Finally. They could just chill out and hang, like friends.

It was silly to feel the things that Kaede did when she walked and talked with Shuichi. It was silly for Makoto and Sayaka to be spending so much time together, as they had done all day. It was silly for Hajime and Nagito to get so close. They all barely knew the first thing about each other. The very circumstances that brought them to this mysterious island were still unknown.

Their group was formed around the common agreement that something was off about this place. They couldn’t rest until they got some answers. Kaede knew that she had little logical reason to feel warmly inclined to a group formed from necessity.

They had nothing else to fall back on, though. People were social creatures.

Their memories weren’t coming back soon. They couldn’t get through to their friends and family. No messages to or from the outside world. No phones, no travel. Not even the usual cloud of families hovering around newly-minted college kids, off for their first semester away from home.

In light of their exceptional situation, quickly-formed bonds were as inevitable as that wacky operation earlier.

It was a good sign that the overwhelming majority of the Ultimates wanted to group up, rather than immediately fall to paranoia. Or the sort of competitive jungle that Kaede had been expecting of the real Hope’s Peak, with people stepping on each other to get ahead.

Maybe that would change if they had anything resembling a goal to advance towards. But the Hope Fragments clearly weren’t designed to push people apart. If anything, those sorts of tasks would foster a sense of community even faster among the Ultimates.

“Come to think of it, until Second Island is reopened, we’re the only ones we’ve seen inside that old ruin,” Kaede said.

“For all the good that does us,” Nagito sighed. “More than half the doors were locked. All the blocked and inaccessible areas on Gopher Island suggest Usami must still have a lot to hide, unfortunately.”

“As if that wasn’t clear from the evil mind ray,” Hajime added, sourly.

“It’s supposedly like a team-building exercise, making us work together,” Shuichi said. “Usami told me more things will open up, the more we become friends.”

“What is the unit of measurement for friendship, anyway?” Kaede asked. “How is it that this massive project, supposedly run by HPA, feels so incomplete? Or like it wasn’t even really thought out?”

“Well. When I spoke with Usami as well, she seemed quite confident that Second Island could be reopened as soon as tomorrow,” Sayaka said. “She’s the one who decides when the bridge goes back down, so I guess she would be confident.”

“She’s got all the cards,” Hajime nodded. “Absolute power over what happens on this island. Above all else, we’ve got to remember that, and be careful.”

Silence fell over the group for some time. They admired the view, in spite of themselves.

The island had a seductive quality to it, chipping away at their natural concern and worry bit by bit. Good food, the chance to form friendships, getting away from the hundred annoyances and concerns of modern life.

For every mystery and worrying secret locked away from them, Kaede could see a beautiful side to their situation. Definitely, this wasn’t like any kidnapping on the news. A group that just wanted some hostages, and didn’t care about their wellbeing, wouldn’t put together a plan of this scope. Or bother with the tropical resort islands. Going to so much effort just to get everyone to relax and be vulnerable was also pointless when Usami already controlled everything.

“Our Byakuya told me earlier ‘That rabbit’s not lying to us.’.” Hajime said. “I’m starting to think he’s not wrong. Or at least, if Usami is lying to us, she’s not just some terrorist or whatever. Our best bet is to cooperate for now. I’d rather not see what happens if she gets mad at us for rebelling.”

“Not to mention, if this whole thing is legit, then our future’s on the line. Somebody from HPA might be watching us to see how we handle it.” Makoto said.

“We might have no choice but to end up going along with Usami,” Sayaka said. “Trust her, in a sense. At least as far as we could throw her.”

“Which is probably pretty far,” Makoto said, laughing nervously. “Actually, we can confirm that. Mondo totally tossed Usami clear across the island after the flashback light incident.”

Kaede regretted missing the flying rabbit show. Among her class, Rantaro was the only one who had the adverse reaction. At least, he was the one who passed out from it. Maki seemed shaken up, too. Unsettled, reclusive, antisocial. Even more so than before.

What did she really see when everyone else got their visions? If it was just the Hope’s Peak classes, why was she so hell-bent on keeping out of social events? That question went for both her and Kyouko, actually. Rantaro was happily chatting up girls on the beach in spite of his condition, and Hajime was fine.

So what was it about those two girls that made them so stand-offish?

_“Hey! You guys back there?!”_

Kaede heard his voice from far off, but soon, everyone could hear and see him. The group turned to offer surprised greetings to the plum-colored Ultimate Astronaut.

“What’s up?” Kaede asked. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He replied, huffing and puffing. “Had to run all over to find you. Usami suggested these little side-paths. Especially this one.”

“She’s well informed,” Kaede sighed.

“And freaking the hell out. She asked me to round up all the stragglers who wandered off from the Ultimate Beach Party, and bring them back in ASAP.”

Before anyone ask why, the weather changed.

No, it _was_ changed, before their very eyes.

It wasn’t like the storm clouds in the distance blew in. Even if they were forming an actual hurricane, it would have taken some amount of time to strike the islands with nature’s raw fury.

That wasn't it at all. Kaede blinked, and in that instant, an amber, warm-tinted tropical sunset over the ocean was replaced with a solid covering of packed dark clouds. Directly overhead. In the time it took her eyes to close and open, the entire weather situation had worsened dramatically.

Like God flicked a light switch.

“... I’m going to go get Maki and Kyouko, see you guys back on the beach. Whatever happens, don’t get reckless!”

‘Yeah,” Kaede agreed, still staring skywards when she heard rumbling and felt the ground shake. “... Hey, you’re one to talk!” She shouted after him, but Kaito was already gone, running down the footpath. The wind picked up all around them, shaking the trees and sending a chill through the gathering of college kids, who abruptly found themselves a little underdressed for the cooling weather. “Geeze.”

Rumbling intensified, and Kaede registered that it wasn’t lightning or thunder about the time she saw the first robot emerge from deeper inland.

Large mechs came from the forest to either side, crashing through the trees with unusual urgency in their gait. Once they were on the path, they turned, and did something Kaede hadn’t seen at all throughout the day.

They were running, booking it at what might have been their maximum speed down the path.

Secluded though they might have thought their little sunset lookout point, the rumbling of heavy machinery, and big footfalls, came in from elsewhere, too. Back in the direction of the island’s primary path.

Hajime let out a deep sigh that came straight from the soul. “I guess we’re not quite done being jerked around today.”

When they got back to the main dirt road, they were nearly run over by more robots. They all headed right for Tranquility Beach, full throttle. Their urgent march left deep impressions on the packed, paved dirt of the road.

Kaede spotted Kaito, with a pair of girls in tow. Girls who normally wouldn’t have given him so much as the time of day, but were going along without complaint, eyes locked on the robots going ahead of them.

There was clearly only one place to be on the island tonight.

Lightning crackled in the distance. Subsequent thunder shook the ground every bit as much as the mechs.

When they got back to the beach, they saw that all the Ultimates had gathered. Or rather, it looked like they had been gathered. Everyone clustered together nervously, and the gathering was surrounded on every side by the robots.

“What’s Usami doing?! They’ve all been captured!” Kaede said, hand over her mouth in shock.

“Maybe,” Nagito replied, stroking his chin. “But maybe not. Look, all the robots are facing outwards, none of them are actually looking at the Ultimates. That suggests they’re on some kind of guard mode.”

“If that’s true,” Sayaka asked, as the color drained from her face, “What are they guarding everyone from?”

Kaede looked around. No more mechs were coming, but the noises of their footsteps were still all around, like they were coming from the treeline. Then, trees started coming down, groaning as they fell and smashed the ground. It was distant, as only Kaede picked up on it, but it was there. “Shuichi, did you manage to count the robots?”

“Sixteen. I think. Although those are only the ones that anyone on the island reported, not necessarily all of them. But if that's true, well. There's sixteen down there.”

The question was there, unspoken. What was making that noise from inland?

“I think we should go join the others,” Kyouko announced, arriving beside the group with Maki and Kaito. The mysterious girl pulled her dark purple jacket closer around herself, and adjusted the gloves covering her hands. As if she was preparing for a fight, or something.

“Might as well. It’s not like we can just leave everyone down there,” Makoto said. “C’mon!”

The robots had no objection to watching them walk up and pass the perimeter, looking past and to the treeline uphill. Usami stepped forward, in front of the huge robots. Her stubby hands were on her hips.

“Everyone, stay back! Whatever happens next, we’ll protect you!”

_“Upupu.”_

“The hell is that noise?” Mondo demanded, looking around. He didn’t see anything in the forest, on the beach, or out to sea. The waves, which looked great for surfing, now towered, crashing high up on the beach.

_“Upupupupu~”_

“It’s coming from the trees!” Kazuichi said, panicking. His second Ultimate talent. He pointed as trees close to the beach started to fall over.

“Oh no…” Usami said, doing no better. The plush toy was visibly sweating. “That laugh! But that’s impossible! How is he here?! Of all places!”

“Who’s here?!” Kaede demanded, but Usami wasn’t listening to anything the students, in their escalating alarm and worry, said. She was fixated on the treeline, like her mechs, which all dropped to one knee, and produced very large guns and missile launchers.

“All units, stand by to open fire!”

As if a little stuffed white rabbit, dressed like a magical girl, and claiming to be their professor, wasn’t absurd enough. Now she was acting like a hard-nosed general. In that same sugary-sweet voice. The robots, and their weapons loadouts, all looked like they meant quite a lot of business, though. Kaede could hear gears and machinery cycling within them.

The only thing that could have added further to the madness was another stuffed animal. So another one, a bear this time, obligingly appeared before Kaede’s very wide purple eyes.

He was no bigger than Usami and every bit as cute, popping out of the forest. He stood on the edge of the eroded rock walls. Behind him, more massive robots stomped forward.

All of them were, like the stuffed animal leading them, painted snow-white on one half, and jet-black down the other side. And all of them were, like their counterparts down on Tranquility Beach, packing heat.

The mechanized armies painted each other with crisscrossing targeting lasers.

Careless of the tense atmosphere, the stuffed bear laughed his heart out. “Sorry to keep you all waiting!” He declared, unable to contain his joyful mirth. One of the bear’s eyes, the one on the black side, glowed. “Ahahaha!”

That laughter was just like when somebody laughed at a funeral. The bear’s high-pitched mickey-mouse voice only somehow added to the menace he gave off. Kaede shivered.

“I mean, this is a Danganronpa fanfic, after all. What did you even expect?”


	9. 0-9.   Welcome to Despair Island I (Kokichi)

The forty-eight Ultimate students, the leading lights of Hope’s Peak Academy, were the cream of the crop.

They were selected for superhuman talents and incredible, if unbalanced, personalities.

One of the least balanced, but most awesome, had to be Kokichi Ouma.

He was the avatar of lies. That might have made him a somewhat unsuitable person to tell you a story, or portray his perspective of events.

Well, too bad. He ended up playing an absolutely critical role in the shape of everything to come on this voyage of passion and purpose.

So. At the end of the day, save for one stinky, dumb, useless piece-of-trash scrap-metal exception, the Ultimates were just people.

At that, they were barely adults. Some people didn’t think a college student was even capable of functioning much past matters involving beer kegs and term papers. Including many of them. Kokichi had his strong doubts, based on his experiences with some of his ‘peers’ today.

Regardless, none of them could be really blamed for standing there, silent, in utter shock.

After all, two stuffed animals led armies of giant robots in a massive Mexican standoff. On the storm-swept beachfront of a strange tropical island. To which they’d been abducted. They had their memories forcefully altered, and they were not allowed to leave.

They’d been grappling with impossibility since the very moment they awoke on Gopher Island. However, the madness was never quite so insistent, so bombastic, so over the top, as right then. Nothing Kokichi could have spun as a story would have had the same punch as this. It had the buffs of being true, and happening before their very eyes.

Even though to a sane person, any of this was both impossible, and stupid. It wasn’t boring, though.

Usami waved her Magic Stick suuper menacingly, gathering magical energy in rainbow colors. She adopted a battle stance, even if she was more likely to try and give this other bear a keychain or a hug or something than attack him.

“Monokuma! I won’t ask why you’re here, because that’s obvious! I just want to know how-”

“Hold it!” The stylishly-designed creature identified as Monokuma proclaimed, fists raised. “What the hell kind of introduction is that?! I’m literally the franchise player. You can’t have a Danganronpa property, not even a proper fan-work, without me! Plus, you might know the routine by now. But all the bastards you’ve brainwashed might need a little refresher course on who I am, and what I do~”

“Brainwashed?!" Hajime echoed. Oh, right, he had already expressed suspicion of the flashback lights, so he’d naturally be receptive to that kind of narrative. Whether it was true or not wasn’t material to that. He and the other members of the Amnesia Brigade were looking especially distressed.

What was the Ultimate Hunt, and the memories they claimed to recover?

Truth, or lies?

Ooh, or both?

Those were the best lies of all.

Monokuma cleared his throat, a pointless action. “So just for the learners with exceptionalities on the island, and oh boy are there a few of those. Or for readers at home who didn’t play the games before reading an ensemble cast fanfiction, if you exist. Here’s the long and the short of it! Who am I? What am I? What am I going to do? All of these questions have an answer, and it’s the very same answer!

 **Despair**. That’s all. That’s all it ever is, and that’s all you’ll ever get, now that I’m taking over. As of this moment, I am now the leader of the Gopher Island operation! I am the captain of this rudderless, disgustingly fluffy ship! And we’re getting on an entirely new course!

With a new administration, comes all new rules! All this ‘hope’ and ‘friendship’ stuff is permanently suspended! We’re going to put you bastards to much better use.”

“W-We’ll see about that, you monster! As long as I told the Magic Stick, I have the power to stop you! In fact, you’d better start telling me what I want to know, o-o-or you’re history! How did you find us? How did you even get here?!”

Kokichi watched, fascinated, hanging off their every word. Most of the other Ultimates were still trying to process the unreal absurdity before them. Anything the mascots said could be important hints. Or at least, constituted a data-point that couldn’t possibly be ignored. The creatures clearly knew far more than the Ultimates were being allowed to know, which made them important.

Even professional liars could slip up. In fact, the very act of telling a lie told truths beneath it, if you just had the right angle to recognize them. That made it so hard to do right. It was why so many people just shouldn’t even get into that ball-game when Kokichi was around.

The only thing more offensive to him than the unvarnished truth was an unvarnished lie.

“You know the answer to that already. Poor, slow Usami. As long as a single seed of despair remains in the human soul, the killing game will never end! The killing game is eternal!” Monokuma yelled, mouth open, revealing rows of menacing fangs on the all-black side.

Usami was sure trembling a lot for somebody who seemed to hold the trump card in this game. Then again, if the ‘killing game’ was a battle of wits of some kind, Usami might have been going in unarmed. “I’ll do it! I’ll hit you with a Giga Friendship Beam, and eradicate you off the face of this world!”

“Upupu. Then why don’t you? Come on, like you said. You’ve got that Magic Stick, and you’re charging up quite an impressive animation there, I suppose.”

It was very bright. Usami was essentially preparing a large spirit bomb made of friendship.

Kokichi didn't know what that much friendship felt like. Only a precious handful of people in the world could truly be called his comrades, his friends, his companions. None of them were present.

 _“Come on, guys, we’ve been in tougher scrapes than this before. Find me and get me out of here, before I get blighted in some stupid battle between ‘good’ and ‘evil’...”_ Kokichi murmured to himself in annoyance. _“At this rate, I might have no choice but to…”_

“I need more time to charge up!” Usami sweatdropped. “Um, maybe three more chapters and then I’ll be ready to fire?”

The Monosals leapt forward together, down onto the sands of the beach, shaking the ground as they landed, facing off directly with the Exisals, like sixteen dance partners were being picked. Nice job giving up that elevation advantage.

If this led to some kind of absurd war, it would be the kind of war that was far too stupid to die for. Kokichi wouldn’t let that happen. In fact, he wouldn’t let this foolishness get started at all. But how to best short-circuit the situation, hm. How best to to take advantage while they bantered.

“Oh really? Or are you just scared of what will happen if you start firing off that kind of high-grade destruction magic, I wonder?” Monokuma giggled. “Upupu. Maybe you’ll deplete your mana, fall over, and be unable to move for the rest of the day! That’s not much of a battle strategy. Either way, all I’ve got to do is grab that Magic Stick and beat you up right now!”

“J-Just try it! The Exisals won’t sit quietly and let you do as you please! They’ll fire at will!”

“But what about my Monosals?~ We seem to be pretty evenly matched. It’s a thrilling standoff, with the stakes as high as they’ll go! Life and death, hope and despair! … But, uh, are you really okay with this battle?”

“I swore to protect my students, and you’re everything I h-h-h-h-h-h-hate given form! Of course I’ll wipe you out! I’ll stop your madness before it can even begin!”

Even though Kokichi had a similar intent, if he could find an opening to strike, he was nearly overcome with a wave of lameness-nausea. Apparently, Monokuma felt similarly. Good fashion sense, and a snappy attitude. Shame he apparently wanted to actually kill people, which was mega ultra lame.

The most lame of all lame things.

“Upupupu. Keep loading up those jobber lines. As if you wanted to telegraph to the readers what’s going to happen next. Well, a lot of them already figured it out, so hey.”

“What are you even talking about?! Stick to in-character remarks!”

“Do I really have to spell things out for you?~”

Kokichi sighed deeply, and regarded his nails. Rantaro did such good work. “Collateral damage, Usami.”

“.... Eeep! If we go all-out on each other...”

Monokuma chortled in a sinister fashion. “Your precious students are gonna get hurt. No matter who wins, they lose big. Plus, that way would be way too fast. I would even call it a merciful end, compared to what’s to follow. So, in fact, I kinda don’t want that either. If we can avoid it.”

“T-Then if you’re not here for a battle, what do you want?”

“I came to make you an offer you can’t refuse. Fight me, nerd! I don’t mean with our big stompy robots. I mean one on one! Bear to rabbit! Final destination, no items, one life! Winner takes all, and the loser is annihilated!”

“You can’t possibly expect me to agree to that! That just means I risk everything needlessly!”

“Well, you’ve got two options, princess. Duel me for all the marbles, and spare your victims. Or we can turn this island into hell. Your call. I’d like to fight in honorable, manful, mascot-to-mascot combat. But either way we do it gets me that juicy, juicy despair.

Actually, this is your chance to finally make that decision that’s been eating you up inside.”

Kokichi perked up, and stared intently at the back of Usami’s little head.

“What do you mean?!”

“Whether your students should die fast, or die slow. Ahahahahaha!”

Very tellingly, Usami was frozen at this remark, and had nothing to say in reply.

A pair of men stepped forward, though the crowd of Ultimates, and past the Exisals in battle formation. They stand on either side of an Usami still frozen with fear. Kaito Momota and Nekomaru Nidai both loudly cracked their knuckles. Nekomaru’s demonstration was much louder, and more impressive, since he had to be at least twice Kaito’s size. And probably had at least twice the brain power, too~

However, they both towered over the mascots in front of and beside them.

Nekomaru was the first Ultimate to speak up to Monokuma. His voice started out low, calm, and focused, but didn’t stay that way. “Hey, Monokuma, was it? You’ve sure said a lot of shit there. Just saying whatever the hell you like. **_Do you think we’re gonna take this lying dooown?!”_**

“Yeah!” Kaito pointed. “Usami might be kinda lame, but she hasn’t attacked us, or tried to kill us! In fact, while she’s got some explaining to do, I believe that she’s with Hope’s Peak! Nothing else makes sense! And that means whoever the fuck you are, you’re not welcome in her school environment!”

Usami looked up towards the Ultimate Astronaut, clutching her chest, tears in her eyes. “Y-You guys…” It was only natural, a lame mascot would be moved by lame speeches about friendship. That was kind of her whole gimmick.

“You’re babbling about some kinda killing game, but that’s not what we’re here for. I think me and my crew are just going to vote you off the island instead!”

Good effort, Kaito.

Monokuma regarded the two men with a tilted head, and a paw up to his mouth. “Oh yeah? You and what army?”

Kaito smirked like he was soooo clever and rubbed his sleeve against his chin idly. “Funny you should ask.”

More Ultimates moved past the Exisal units, stepping forward. It was all the usual suspects. The ones among the classes who had talents related to fighting. Tenko the self-styled Aikido Master, Peko Peko Pekorin the Swordswoman, even Mookie, Ultimate Soldier and freckled meat robot, stepped up to the plate. Plus Sakura, the Battle Ogre who also did martial arts on the side, when she wasn’t harassing feudal villagers.

All four of whom looked fetching in their very tone-inappropriate swimsuits. Although at least unlike her sister over there, Mookie had decided actually covering parts of her body was the way to go.

Those four specialists were the most obvious picks for any combat team, but there was more.

Gonta, a person so stupid that any joke Kokichi thought of wouldn’t match everything about his absurd existence as the Ultimate Entomologist. And Akane, a woman who was half muscle, half boob, and half leg, leaving negative fifty percent of her body’s mass for a brain, were both there, too.

Kokichi should have probably just been grateful that she was wearing a swimsuit this time. Right?

Then there was somebody who didn't necessarily have a special combat talent, unless 'beating people up' counted. Which it probably did, in hindsight. Mondo Grande Enchilada, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader (a talent after Kokichi's own heart) moved to join the others, cracking his knuckles louder than the sound that the mechs made when they moved. He was a big dude, and even without a bike to dramatically do a wheelie and rescue people with, or run over bad guys, he looked badass.

Despite that hair~~~

"Usami said she flew halfway across the island. I wonder how far you'll go, shithead!"

Usami swooned at the manly man's manful roar, perhaps not realizing how it buried her deep beneath the Earth's core.

The last one to emerge was more confusing. Kirumi, modest and helpful team mom and Ultimate Maid, and a heck of a dealer and referee for card games, came forward despite not appearing to have big muscles, or a talent related to fighting. Hmm.

In spite of the very large robots with very large guns, those eight brave souls all stepped right up into obvious crossfire. Right between the two armies, actually blocking some of those red targeting lasers. All to look intimidating and cool. Which they did, to be fair. Some of them actually had energy auras and stuff coming off of them, Including Gonta, who was halfway to being a super saiyan.

While Kirumi twirled a broom like it was a bo staff. The odd thing was that it didn’t feel like she was desperate, or trying to decieve. It was tough to pick up signals from a stoic, serious person. But she really did act like she planned to beat some ass with that broom.

“It just so happens that you came to the wrong island looking for trouble, stuffed bear full of shit!” Nekomaru proclaimed proudly. “I’m not much for fighting myself. I mean, just look at me. I’m merely the Ultimate Team Manager! But we’ve got plenty of Ultimates here whose specialty is in taking you downtown! To pain town! **Where you’ll experience nothing but paaaaaaiiiin!”**

While this was terribly, like, heroic and all that, man. The pre-battle one-liner was a lost art.

“I don’t really get any of this,” Akane said carelessly, popping her neck as she picked her own ear, like a savage. “But we can go back to the cabins after I rip that plushie bear to shreds, right?” Whoa, she had actual claws. Or at least, that’s what sufficiently sharpened nails looked like, when she held them menacingly.

“That’s not the primary concern,” Peko said, drawing her wooden sword. Being wood, it didn’t make a cool swishing sound. Kokichi mentally provided that for the sake of it being more dramatic. “We must take out the robots quickly, before they can fire their weapons systems. Hmm…”

“Concentrate on the joint sections,” Mukuro replied, voice cold as ice and free of anything that resembled emotional inflection. “Like Chihiro said earlier, a machine is broken most easily by its moving parts.”

“While you might have an even match on paper, in reality, we’ve got the advantage on every front!” Kaito said. “So maybe you need to just fuck off, while we’re still asking nicely. Don’t screw with HPA, buddy! Even us newbies will kick your ass six ways from sunday!”

“That’s right,” Kaede said, safely behind one of the Exisals as she egged on others to go fight. That was some good leadership right there. Well, unless the robots had a musical keyboard interface somewhere in there, she wouldn’t do much more than give the enemy a slow, rather wide target. “All the Ultimates are united now, and there’s nothing we can’t accomplish if we stand together!”

“Yeah!” Kokichi agreed cheerfully, fistpumping. “Kaito here will build a rocket ship and launch you into space. Or something. Uh. To be honest, I’m not sure what he’s actually gonna do. But the others will definitely teach you a lesson, mister bear!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, you little jackass…”

Rather than looking intimidated at all, Monokuma was just laughing. “Pupupupu.”

“W-What are you laughing at, you degenerate ursine?!” Tenko demanded, taking a kung-fu stance as expected. Everything about her was played really close to type, huh? How boring-

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Some of you might give the Monosals a run for their money. Before you die horribly. Maybe you’re cool with that, like you’re acting now. Maybe you’ll beg and scream for mercy when it happens. Either way, it won’t be today! Your ‘professor’ isn’t very good at making the tough choices, or answering the hard questions! I’m sure you’ve noticed that by now! Ahahaha!”

Even though she was thrilled by having her students step forward for her, Usami was clearly still quivering with concern. It wasn’t hard to see why, if you had a brain.

Thus, none of the fighters had noticed it yet except for Peko and Kirumi. So Kokichi helped them out. “Even in the best case scenario, those aren’t nerf guns mounted on the robots, guys. Those are gatling guns and rocket launchers and stuff. Are you really going to tank fifty-cal bullets with your face? That would be awesome.”

“N-Nobody could survive if they got hit with attacks like that,” Usami said, shaking. “Everyone, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, w-we can’t risk a full-out battle here…”

“Upupupu. So you accept my challenge, then? Gonna throw down?” Monokuma showed his own pair of stainless steel claws, which gleamed off the light from his own eye in the absence of the sun’s warmth. In general, things were getting downright chilly, in mood and weather, and heavy winds blew through in just the most dramatic fashion.

Even got some lightning in the distance, occasionally flashing close enough to illuminate the tense standoff. Very nice. Was one of the bears doing that on purpose? Could they have? How were they doing anything they did?

“Don’t be absurd,” Mukuro said, somehow producing another kitchen knife. From her swimsuit. Kokichi didn’t even want to speculate where that had been hidden. Ouch. Maybe Mukuro was just using her abs to sharpen it or something.

Monokuma had a super interesting reaction to her, at least. He turned towards Mukuro, stared for a moment, and then asked, “What the heck are you doing, anyway?”

Mukuro, never one to have the brain capacity to be daunted by such odd behavior, just replied, flatly, “Junko has told me to rip your head off and see what’s inside. So that’s my current objective.”

“Did she… did she really? Oh man. That’s actually hilarious on about seven levels you don’t even understand yet.” Monokuma rolled around on the sand, laughing and kicking his feet. “But you really are all blank slates! Even those memories have been taken, huh? Man, Usami, you did a number on them. I just can’t believe it.”

Kokichi felt like this change in behavior towards one specific person could have been a critical thing to know. Did Mukuro know something the others didn’t? How about Junko, the one pulling her strings all the time? Did Usami take something extra from them, like how the Amnesiac Brigade lost their Ultimate talents and other memories?

He looked over at Junko herself, who was looking more belligerent than afraid, but happy to let her sister fight her battles for her. Nothing in her expression was what he’d consider out of sorts, given the wide range of ways humans reacted to tragedies, chaos, and fear. All three of those terms could apply to what was happening here in some measure.

“Final warning, asshole!” Kaito yelled. “Take your robots and fuck off back to wherever you came from. Or face the wrath of the Ultimates-”

“I accept, Monokuma! I will fight you, alone.” Usami stepped forward, her face set. Well, it was always set, but she looked mega determined and, like, stuff. Presumably.

“... What?! Oh, come on!” Kaito was outraged.

“Upupu. I thought so.”

“Well, we don’t accept,” Sakura rumbled menacingly, shaking her head. “We will still fight you with all of our power, Monokuma. Usami, you may merely desire to protect us, but we are not children anymore. We are in fact, adults who can make our own choices. And we choose to stand.”

“D-Damn right,” Kaito said, definitely not getting nervous all of a sudden. And definitely not putting on a pitiful effort to hide his true feelings, because idiots rarely made good liars.

“Ahahaha! How brave are all these Ultimates if you don’t have the backing of the Exisals, I wonder?~"

Without warning, the Exisals knelt down, and their engines and motors whined as they powered down. The mechs, and their weapons, became inert, and the few running lights on their sides went out. They became little more than big metal statues, while the Monosals opposing them continued right on.

Well, they did change in one way. Now all those red lasers were painting the students, and not their robot defenders.

Kaito turned sideways, and Kokichi saw a red dot on his forehead. “Usami! What the fuck!”

Monokuma was delighted. Time for some villain monologuing, maybe? Yep. “Upupu. She knows that you won’t try to take on my robot army with none of your own to back you up! Because you’ll get shredded! Duh! It’s sort of like the Chernobyl accident in the Ukraine. They tried to make conditions in their old nuclear reactor so absurdly unsafe that a risky proposed test couldn’t be run. Of course, in that case, they did it anyway, and guess what? The thing caught on fire and exploded! And everyone died! Well? How about it, Ultimates? Who wants to be the first example I’ll set?~”

It was amazing how fast all the heroism and courage had drained from that crowd, all beside the good-guy robots were offline. Well, maybe that was harsh. They were probably still more heroic than a cowardly liar like Kokichi. It was just the last wisps of their pragmatism getting in the way.

It did show that Usami knew them well, if she was able to trust that the Ultimates wouldn’t attack against those odds. Enough to where she was willing to power the Exisals down. Kokichi didn't know how long those machines took to cycle back up, but it was probably a battle-deciding length of time, were things to turn bloody.

Some way to repay everyone sticking up for her. Although it was probably going to spare them getting shot a bunch, so maybe it was. It was hard to imagine Usami capable of such calculation and scheming. But this whole situation had to have been, on some level, set up by her. In fact, it could still all be her. Good to keep that in mind, even in the midst of this crisis situation.

The Ultimates reluctantly backed off. Usami stepped forward, and so did Monokuma. They slowly, dramatically walked forward to build up the tension, before starting to run. As much as either plushie could run, that is. Usami fired blood-pink energy bolts from her Magic Stick. Kokichi wondered why she decided charging forward with a ranged weapon was the smart move.

Both of these mascot characters seemed to graduates of the Hollywood school of battle tactics.

She hit nothing, of course. Not only was she running, and swinging her shots wildly to either side, but Monokuma was moving fast too. Absurdly fast.

They met in the middle, between their forces, giving off just the most adorable little battle cries.

Kokichi didn’t really know what two stuffed animals in a duel looked like. As it turned out, it didn’t look like much of anything.

Monokuma just punched Usami in the face, causing her to drop the stick and stumble backwards onto her knees, crying. And so, Monokuma grabbed the stick, holding it high in the air and chortling.

So the ‘’’’’battle’’’’’ was over.

Christ almighty.

“No! The Stick! Without it, my power…” Usami sobbed.

Monokuma, having gained whatever power was in that all-important staff, launched into a very telling rant. And one whose every detail would be seared in Kokichi’s memory for the rest of his life. As long as he lived, he, and many of the others watching Monokuma, would never forget the next words he yelled.

It was the start of their journey into darkness.

“Alrighty then! Now that I’m in charge, it’s time to start the main event! I hereby announce the **Killing Game of All Mankind**!

By the time we’re done here, every single person in the world will know of what’s happened. What you’re all going to do to each other. And it will drive the entire human race down into the depths of despair. I hope you’re looking forward to it~

The rules are simple. Has anybody here ever played ‘mafia’? Well, I’m sure one of you has. Eh? Anyone? Anyone? Come on, you spent all day meeting each other and boasting about your damn talents! Oh, whatever.

Each of you will be fitted with a bracelet that will render you unconscious during the night. Leaving every single person defenseless until the sun comes up. Except, of course, for the two _traitors_ hiding among you, who were in place from the very start. They will awaken, and in the course of the night, select one person apiece to attack.

Anybody is a valid target, and any method is acceptable. Pick off the fighters, leaders, and thinkers first, to cripple the group’s efforts? Or go after weaklings and loved ones, to break their morale? Manufacture a truly unsolvable crime? Or make a gruesome display for people to wake up to? That’s up to my comrades to decide for themselves!

Next morning, when everybody awakens, you’ll have some choices to make. Will you feel grateful that you woke up at all, or envy the dead? Or fear the ones who are still alive? I wonder.

Your ultimate goal as the happy little island _village_ is obvious. Find, and kill, the traitors.

I won’t help or hinder you in doing this, just as the traitors must act on their own initiative. Your war is your own concern, and your own fault! I will merely observe, document these events, show them to all of humanity, and enforce the rules if one is broken. And I think you know how I’ll do that~ Now that the draconian rule against extreme violence has been repealed, by me, just now, you can all do it any way you like, too. Player choice and freedom is a super important part of the Team Danganronpa core design ethos!

After somebody is killed, and their body is found by three or more people, I’ll announce whether they were a filthy, filthy traitor… or one of your beloved allies, the many supposedly spotless villagers. I won’t assess a penalty if you get it wrong. So don’t worry, relax, and kill as you please! You can even use this as an excuse to take out your own issues and vendettas, if you think you can get away with it! The more killing, the better. I want to encourage that sort of admirable initiative.

In fact, I’ll even make you a real sweet deal. New rule! If you lynch at least one person during a day, then the traitors can’t kill that night, as they normally would! So make sure to find your own justice, upupu. I wonder how your little village will handle that kind of player freedom and choice? Lives in the balance either way! A time limit pressing down on you fast! The grim necessity of sacrifice! Oh man, my heart is pounding!

Of course, if you want to keep your hands clean, or can’t find a convincing suspect… or scapegoat, or sacrifice, as the case may be, upupu… then feel free to abstain and remain pure. Just be ready when you go to sleep at sunset, not knowing if you’ll ever wake up again~ Ahahahahahahaha!

I also reserve the right to add, edit, or remove rules as I see fit later! Bear this in mind, and check your Hope Pads every so often to make sure you’re up to speed. Remember, ignorance of the law is no excuse at all. Do I look like I’d give a damn? I don’t have pity, or mercy. I am a bear, after all.

Ultimately, the Killing Game of All Mankind has two possible outcomes. Hope will win if both traitors are eliminated. I’ll see myself out, and return power to that impotent, crying little rabbit over there. Of course, if the traitors get everybody else, then that will be the ultimate victory of Despair. Despair deep enough to cover the entire human race in sorrow, as they watch the Ultimates be ultimate failures!

So! Any questions before we get started?~”

A deathly silence fell over the group. Still in their swimsuits, many of them. Half undressed, they’d been relaxing among each other and trying to make friends until just recently, And now, the very nature of their world, which had been tossed on its head just this very morning, got flipped around again.

Kokichi looked around, and saw the gravity of their situation start to sink in. Of course, different people handled it in different ways. One particular detail he noticed was Sayaka, the national idol sensation. The moment she heard Monokuma say that what was happening on the island, and the slaughter to come, was going to be broadcast somewhere, all the color drained from her already pale, delicate face, and she clutched her chest.

Of all the places to have that kind of reaction, that was an interesting one.

Others reacted in terror at the more expected bits, about death, traitors, killing, lynching. Some were stoic, but nobody else’s reactions stuck out quite as much. Save for one that took the idea of ‘rolling with impact’ to a total extreme.

“Just one question, Monokuma.” A voice came from the crowd of bewildered Ultimates. When people turned to look, they saw the fabulous, fearless Rantaro standing alone before the Monosals and their bristling weaponry. He spoke calmly. “Do you know what was done to our memories? And how to restore them?”

The question brought up Monokuma short, as he clearly hadn’t been expecting that. In fact, he took a comedy pratfall, bouncing off the sandy dunes of the beach before recovering.

“W-Well, I wasn’t expecting that right away. But I guess if Usami’s just going to feed you a line, it would be to my advantage to give you a little… incentive to listen to me instead. You are all adults now, like Sakura said! This sounds like the perfect thing, too! Something you all want, even the ‘normals’ who only have the ‘normal’ amount of intentional brain damage. Upupu…”

Monokuma didn’t bother to get up, making sand-angels as he delighted in his own wickedness. That turned out to be a mistake.

Unnoticed by the plushie or his troops, one of the Ultimates had been creeping slowly closer. Silently stalking forward, like a freckled predator. Everyone saw Mukuro approach, and stared. Kokichi was a little impressed that nobody gave her away on accident from sheer stupidity.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of hope left for this lot. That would be decided in the next moments.

Mukuro got as close as she could, and when Monokuma’s red eye finally spotted her, she leapt forward in an instant.

The Monosals raised their weapons to fire, but Kokichi watched in awe as the Ultimate Soldier dodged actual bullets. Not just that, but the fire control and targeting software of war machines. She only had to do it for a moment or two as she closed the remaining distance. It was still a course of action that a normal human, or any other Ultimate, would complete as bloody swiss cheese.

Gunfire rumbled over the beach, and forced many of the Ultimates to flinch or grab their ears against the roar of vulcan cannons, chainguns, and other large, impressive guns going off in sequence.

In dodging the guns that roared out over Tranquility Beach, Mukuro missed her target. Her fingertips brushed the Magic Stick, but then she sailed clean of it. She rolled into the sand to stick the landing, trying to rise up. But she froze on one knee, as the robots trained their weapons upon her and she saw a dozen red dots trace across her body.

The Monosal’s still-smoking weapons spun up again, ready to fire. Waiting on a word from their master.

Fortunately, the bear was feeling a little too smug due to Mukuro’s failure, and chose to lord it up rather than finish the job. “Whew! Close one there for a second. But I guess whether or not you even remember, a disappointment can only disappoint, right to the end. Heck, I’m so underwhelmed, I may just write this off as youthful indiscretion and let you keep on living, Mukur.... Son of a bitch!”

While Monokuma was busy gloating, and the Monosals were locking down their target from every angle, they all seemed very distracted and defenseless to Kokichi.

So he yoinked the Magic Stick.

It just seemed like the thing to do.

“Hope?! Despair?! Who gives a _fuck_ about that?! The one who’s going to survive to the end is none other than _me!_ Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader!”

The rock that had once served as cover for the babe hunt was now Kokichi’s platform. Once he clambered on top of it, he could give a suitably dramatic speech to the assembled mass of shocked Ultimates and robots. It also helped ensure everyone could see him, whereas standing in a crowd, the stature-challenged, if very handsome, boy might have gotten lost in the shuffle.

He deserved to stand on a level above everyone else, anyhow.

“With this Magic Stick, I have the power! Forget those dumb plushies! I’m now the one in charge of this island! Bow down before me, mortals! Ahahahaha!”

Everyone was staring up at a small, clever boy in a white coat and pants. And a fashionable checkerboard scarf. Waving a Magic Stick with a heart tip and cute little winglets around in the air. As his expression was twisted up into one of pure, heartless malice. A malevolence that could in fact, perhaps exceed Monokuma’s own sinister designs-

“... Uh, hey. Where are the buttons on this thing, anyway?”

 

It was at that moment he knew he fucked up.

 _“Get him!”_ Somebody shouted.

Time to run! He was good at that from long experience escaping the consequences of his actions. Which was fortunate.

He took off at a dead sprint, with every single thing on Gopher Island in hot pursuit.

They were united of purpose even as they scrambled over and around each other, and jockeyed for position.

Gunfire whizzed through the air, and peppered the sands around Kokichi’s feet.

Everyone was determined to either get the Magic Stick, kill him, or do both.


	10. 0-10. Welcome to Despair Island II (Makoto)

It didn’t start to rain until the hunt was on.

Then, those ominous black clouds really let loose. When it rained, it poured. It came in sheets, bombarding Tranquility Beach without mercy.

Just like the bullets and rockets now flying overhead.

Water poured off people and robots, soaking deeply into white sand. At least it was just water, for now, in spite of all the sound and fury going off around them. Just as Monokuma threatened, the beach now looked like a war zone.

No blood to seep into the sands yet and turn them pink, though. In spite of how this peaceful paradise had been shattered into abject chaos, nobody was dying yet.

A situation which could change at any instant.

At least nearly everyone was dressed for the weather.

Makoto had dried off from his dip earlier, but swim trunks were made to handle being soaked. Under less terrifying circumstances, he even liked the rain, so getting a shower was no bother.

Makoto couldn’t help but feel for one of his classmates, though. Celeste decided to stay beneath a parasol and cheer them on. Or rather, scream harsh invective at Hifumi, to get him moving. The Ultimate Lucky Student suspected that if Celeste was hit by the rain, she would melt.

Makoto should have been laser-focused on his objective like everyone else. Running forward as fast as his legs could pump. He was moving, and his legs were aching with exertion after just a minute of all-out running, showing just what kind of ‘elite’ condition he was in. But his mind raced at a million miles an hour, far outpacing his body.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel fear. Oh, far from it. He couldn’t believe what was going on. His heart thundered worse than the weather. This was just so patently absurd that he couldn’t help but slide off it a little bit, mentally. It didn’t feel real at first.

Bullets and rockets flew overhead. Explosions blasted the beach. That gave it further unreality, like they’d stepped onto the set of a movie being filmed.

A rocket, disturbed by his lack of faith, burst close enough to give Makoto a serious headache. It nearly shake him off-balance, and ensured the only thing he could hear was a sharp, high ringing. That helped get the message through, by pounding it into his skull. Yet he pushed on, running up towards the exit to the beach, following the crowd towards the forest, Kokichi’s destination.

This situation didn’t look like anything Makoto had ever seen in his life. Outside of movies and video games. Normal people, living normal lives, didn’t have to duck glowing tracer rounds on a dark and stormy night, on a tropical island.

Makoto probably gave up some right to be ‘normal’ the moment he accepted HPA’s invitation. This was just the moment when it really sank in that the life he knew, the one with his family and friends, was gone. It was just possible he’d never see it again, either.

It was an odd thing, to intellectually acknowledge that, at any moment, he might get shot.

It got him moving faster than he’d ever run in his life. He still wasn't going to catch the front-runners. The athletes and combat specialists, most of whom had stepped up to fight Monokuma, moved with all of their power.

Mercifully, the Monosals weren’t firing to try and hit Kokichi anymore. Nor any of the other students. That was clear, because they kept missing. Even Makoto figured a machine could probably hit the thing it was aiming at, if it kept trying.

Unless that machine was Usami. With all their lives hanging in the balance, Makoto didn’t find her bumbling efforts to ‘defend them’ amusing.

Another explosion near Makoto sent a wave of heat and pressure through him, like he was just a big mass of jelly. He certainly felt like his bones were gone for a second. He regained his balance, fought off a wave of nausea, and pushed on. His natural impulses told him to curl up into a ball and rock back and forth until the madness stopped, but he knew he just had to keep going.

The Monosals were just trying to scare people off the chase. He hoped. Monokuma had evil plans for them, so there was no way he’d just blast everyone. He hoped. The machines didn't move as fast as a human could at a dead sprint, so the pack was leaving them in the dust.

Monokuma and Usami were not so limited. Makoto saw flashes of them overhead, making absurd, fifty-meter jumps in a single bound, and running fast enough to leave a wake of sand like Mukuro. They only didn’t catch Kokichi because they were busy delivering flying punches and kicks to each other like anime characters.

As in, flailing about mid-air and forming comical cartoon dustballs in the sky.

A sight so distracting and out of place during the serious, tense crisis, it nearly made Makoto hit a tree.

By contrast, the ever-stoic Mukuro kept her focus, as she always seemed capable of doing. Straight ahead, towards her objective. She was, from the scattered, shaky glimpses that Makoto could get through his water-soaked brown hair, the leader of the race. Followed by Akane, followed by Ryoma, followed by Sakura. It was astonishing how fast that much mass could move.

The Ultimates in front weren’t the type to get discouraged with a few bullets. Makoto could have only imagined what Mukuro and Akane had gone through in their lives to give them such a perspective. Neither woman so much as flinched as machine guns lit them up, and some rounds came within inches of shredding their legs to bits. Ryoma had been on death row before, which spoke to both what he was capable of doing to others, and what he had handled himself. Sakura was a living mountain who, in spite of what Kokichi said earlier, probably could handle a few bullets.

Certainly, none of them cared. The other Ultimates didn’t stop or slow down much. They went after that Magic Stick to get it back into Usami’s hands.

Any lingering shreds of disbelief about their situation, or its severity, stopped when they were actually being shot at. Their behavior changed faster than they could consciously realize what was going on.

The half of the Ultimates who were more prone to action went all-out. The less athletic or brave members of the crew lagged behind, but few just stayed on the beach to watch the chaos unfold. Celeste aside. Makoto wasn't expecting to accomplish much of anything when he himself set out after Kokichi. He just had to try. He couldn’t just watch.

The Monosals were slower than a human at a run, on account of what must have been many hundreds of kilograms of metal, They didn’t dare use their weapons systems anymore now that the angle was so poor; they’d just hit random people, which probably wasn’t what Monokuma wanted at all. They fell behind.

Those lumbering war machines were not going to be Kokichi’s biggest problem. Heck, even the two mascot plushies, leaping around like they were fighting game characters and bouncing off of trees, were not of the greatest concern. They negated each other and continued struggling while trying to chase.

Kokichi’s problem was simple and obvious. The strongest Ultimate students were going to catch up to him, subdue him, and get the Magic Stick back at any cost. That was clear. It was obvious. If sanity prevailed, it was what had to happen, and he wouldn’t even get that far.

The forests on First Island were not even big enough to truly get lost in. They were more buffers around the landmark areas and the main road. However, it did mean that it was no longer just a sprint forward. Kokichi could have gone in any number of directions, and visibility in the night, in the rain, was exceptionally poor.

The Ultimates only had the occasional burst of lightning, lamp-posts along the path, and the meager light of their own Hope Pads to light the way. That, and the floodlight lamps of the Monosals from behind, as the robots caught up to the forest, and fights broke out. Supernaturally gifted fighters versus powerful battle mecha.

Minutes passed of confusion and skirmishing.

The group needed something else to find their quarry. Something that overrode common sense, logic, reason, and even talent itself. The one factor that bent reality out of any recognizable shape, into whatever it wanted.

Luck.

Neither Makoto himself, nor Nagito Komaeda, were able to control their ‘ability’ to any degree whatsoever. It didn’t even feel like an Ultimate talent, and both had expressed that in the past. Others were far more impressed by them than they were. It seemed like Nagito especially felt like trash, while Makoto just had the normal fears a normal person would have, when tossed in with lions.

Neither of them were exceptional in any physical way, and according to common sense, they should have been near the back of the race.

Yet, before either man knew it, there they were.

Staring at each other, in a small forest clearing. Between them was Kokichi, being pinned to the ground forcefully by Mukuro like she was the Ultimate Wrestler. She was wearing nothing but her digital-camo bikini, the hoodie having come off during the mad scramble.

Look more appreciative, dude.

The sounds of pursuit were all around. But it was just the four of them for that instant. Mukuro looked up and noticed the two boys. If she was surprised to find them catching up before all the other more gifted and powerful students, it didn’t show. In fact, her freckled, pale face remained a stone mask.

“Grab the Stick,” She said to them. “We can’t use it, but Usami-”

A Monosal crashed through the trees, making a dynamic entrance right beside them. Suddenly, the scene was illuminated in the blinding flood lights mounted on the front of the mech.

Makoto covered his eyes instinctively, flinching. “Go!” Mukuro shouted. She got up off of Kokichi, and went for it, while all three guys were still stunned. As in, the early-twenties girl in a bikini went for the huge battle mecha. Empty-handed.

Makoto should have told her not to, but it was pointless. Both lucky boys shrugged to each other, and dove forward, managing to swipe the items Kokichi was reaching for. Makoto ended up with the grand prize, the Magic Stick. Nagito recovered Mukuro’s discarded knife.

Both took off running, now with a disarmed and whiny Kokichi in pursuit. “How do we even find Usami?!” Makoto asked, huffing and puffing. He barely ducked in time to avoid a Monosal flying through the air, smashing more of the forest down around it.

A shower of splinters joined the raindrops, and some should have undoubtedly sliced them up. However, both emerged from it without a scratch, and Kokichi took a few moments to follow them, giving them a slight head-start.

Another thing that disrupted the liar’s pursuit was the reason that Monosal went flying. Sakura leapt forward with a kick, massive stone pillar of a leg extended. Visible energy crackled off her and sparked through the rain-soaked air, as she smashed into the robot again.

“I have an idea,” Komaeda replied, barely even glancing around him at the insanity. With little clue of what to do, and not wanting Kokichi to recover his prize and risk everything, Makoto followed.

In moments, the three boys found themselves back at the crew’s nice lookout spot. It now had a view of nearly nothing, just the stormy, turbulent ocean waters. Not much of that, even, given poor visibility conditions.

“C’mon, guys, give it baaack,” Kokichi whined. As if he was a little child who got his candy stolen from him. Rather than an idiot who was going to get people hurt. Makoto, normally a mild fellow, fixed him with a glare, and held the Magic Stick tighter in his arms like it was his baby.

“You’re lucky Tenko didn’t find you. I saw her getting through the forest by kicking the trees down back there,” Nagito laughed merrily, even as he held out the knife to fend off Kokichi’s advance, seemingly not concerned even slightly. What was that guy on? “Or Akane. She’d probably just eat you! Ahem. Anyhow. Heeeey!” He cupped his hands, and yelled off the cliff, into the waters. “Heeey! Monokuma!”

Kokichi and Makoto had wildly different reactions.

Makoto echoed, in surprise, “... Monokuma?!”

Kokichi said calmly, “He probably can’t hear you.”

Which was a fair point. They could barely hear each other over the roar of the storm winds. The weather continued to worsen, as if the Magic Stick itself had been holding back the storm. Or nature herself wanted to properly reflect the abject madness of the situation.

Speaking of which, here came rockets from the sky.

They landed on the path leading back to the road, wreathing it in chemical fires and black, choking acrid smoke. Rain had little effect on the flames, forcing them to bob and weave but not actually extinguishing their furious intensity.

Out of the fires, like a nightmare, stepped that two-tone bear.

“You rang?~”

“Nagito, what are you doing?” Makoto looked over towards his friend, and froze. The blade of the kitchen knife was up. Makoto could see Monokuma’s red eye reflected off the kitchen knife’s polished surface. “What the hell?!”

“Hand me the thing, Makoto,” Nagito requested, voice still calm and soothing. His _eyes_  were a different story. Their intensity was frightening. It reminded Makoto of how Kokichi looked on top of that rock, when he thought he had all the power in the world. “Trust me, I have a plan that will result in the greatest amount of hope. We just need to have the resolve to move forward.”

Makoto had no words for what he saw in Nagito’s eyes, but a human soul definitely wasn’t top of the list. It was like the friend he’d just been fighting alongside had been replaced by an alien wearing his skin.

He even looked different, although the bursts of distant lightning and the light of his own Hope Pad was responsible for a lot of the moody lightning to set this scene.

Neither that, nor the knife, inclined him to hand over the Stick. After all the work they’d done to recover it. Makoto felt like he was about to collapse on the spot, huffing and puffing, but he had it, and he wouldn’t let go. Instead of giving up, Makoto took a step backwards, on reflex, and Nagito took two forward.

Although he had that knife ready, he looked poised to strike. It sent a very clear message that Nagito wasn’t asking.

Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student, had never been threatened with death before today. Now, it was practically happening each minute. Nobody could predict what a person would do when faced with that threat until it actually happened. Everyone hoped they would be brave, courageous, or cool, even in the face of danger.

Makoto’s eyes were wide with fear.

“You can’t be serious. Nagito, are you one of them? One of Monokuma’s guys?!”

The thought occurred to Makoto that the men he was standing beside could have been the two traitors Monokuma spoke of. Judging them based off their actions since the bear arrived to wreak havoc, it was hard to pick anyone else, in fact.

Did life really arrange itself in such convenient ways, though? Or inconvenient, for him. More to the point, would any of the Ultimates really sell out everyone else? For what reason?

It was unbelievable to Makoto, still steeped despite his best efforts in a normal person’s perspective of the world. And, privately, hoping that this whole thing was just a gigantic, elaborate misunderstanding. With guns, and robots, and bombs, and dramatic chase scenes.

Yeah, probably not.

Being accused like that, and seeing the look in Makoto’s fearful eyes, made Nagito frown. It stopped his advance for a second. His own eyes had actual swirls in them now, what the actual literal fucking fuck- “As if. I’m on the side of hope, only and ever. There’s no way I’d side with despair. Even if it costs me my own life, I’ll fight for hope to the very end.”

“Then why would you ever-”

_“I’d fight for hope, even if it costs the lives of others.”_

“... What?”

Makoto looked at Monokuma, who was giggling relentlessly at the scene unfolding before him. Then back to Nagito, who was also giggling to himself. The two didn’t sound all that different to him at all. “Nagito, this isn’t funny! I think this thing really means business!”

“I guess it is kind of confusing, if you’re a boring, everyday, average kind of person. Huh. I forgot that we’re sort of alike in a few ways. Sorry to say, but it’s true.”

Why was Nagito acting like being compared to himself was the worst, most vile, most despicable insult? Why were his words dripping with venom when he talked about himself? Or Naegi?

Why was he talking about sacrificing other people?

Why any of this?

“We don’t have much time, so I won’t bore you with the details. But for the greatest hope to blossom on this island, like Usami wants, we’ll need to face, and overcome, the greatest despair.”

“What’s full of more despair than a Monokuma-brand killing game?” Monokuma asked, hand to his mouth. “Nothing, or your money back! That’s the best kind of guarantee. Even if the kids didn’t enjoy it, well. They’re dead! So I keep the money anyhow. Hey, don’t look at me like that! I gotta run a business here, you upstart millennials.”

Kokichi sniffled. “Nagito, I can’t believe it. We’ve known you for so long. We swore a pact to get off this island together and s-save everyone… Y-You definitely aren’t some random stranger we fucking just met. That’s why this is so shocking, and why Makoto is on the verge of _girly little bitch-tears!_ ”

What the heck did the clown expect in this situation!? Even if he had a point, and even if the Ultimates didn’t really know each other, this was fucked. The idea that the mild, relaxed, friendly Nagito, who was so helpful, was really…

This…

 _Whatever_ was laughing in his face, waving a knife around, and giving speeches about hope and despair like Makoto was supposed to know what the fuck was going on...

Was terrifying on a level beyond that of a physical threat. Or a bear cackling about evil plans. Not that his stomach wasn’t tied into knots from them, and he was shaking from fear. It wasn’t that Kokichi was wrong about the situation. The fact that he was right was what got under Makoto’s skin more than that knife could. His blood run cold.

The unknown was the greatest of all human fears, and a big reason why the Ultimates couldn’t rest easy on this mysterious island. Even though it had been established to most people's’ satisfaction that this was part of their progress into HPA, like some weird project. Even though it was a beautiful place, even a paradise, full of attractive people and interesting stories. Even though it seemed like their every need could be provided for in some way.

Their every need, except to know what was actually happening. What was this place? Who were these people who had all been brought together? They were all just a bunch of strangers, right?

How could strangers turn on each other so easily? How could Monokuma even expect everyone to start killing each other?

Makoto opened his mouth to object, shaking his head. But then he saw Nagito wave the knife around. “Look, Makoto. You seem like a good guy. But ultimately, you are like me. Our talents are trash. Which means we’re trash. Only fit to be a stepping stone for the real Ultimates, like Kokichi. Or Hajime, Kaede and the rest. We have to have faith that they’ll overcome this despair, no matter what. So give me the Magic Stick, or just give it to Monokuma.”

Makoto was freezing. Buffeted by harsh wind and rain like it was the end of the world, but that wasn’t why he was shivering.

A hero would have spat in Nagito’s face, or dove for the knife, or tried to hit him. Or just started running. Or at the very least, put up more of a fight. Before giving up what seemed like the key to their doom right to the enemy.

Nagito was right about one thing, though. Makoto wasn’t an Ultimate in the way that the others were. He was listed with a talent, but he just wasn’t like them. Makoto Naegi was raised in a normal household, with normal values, and a normal person’s understanding of the world.

In that sense, _nothing_ compared to somebody like Kaede or Sayaka. They were _somebodies_ in this world; big talents, big names. Even so, they showed such kindness and warmth to a nobody like him.

When Makoto saw the true face of somebody he thought was a friend, and that face was raw, raving, insanity? All he could do was stare in shock.

When somebody puts a knife in a normal person’s face and demands something, they get it. Because to a normal person’s frame of mind, stuff isn’t worth dying for. Even though other people's lives hung in the balance, as well as his own, that was imprinted onto Makoto too. Other people weren’t worth just up and dying for. Right?

“You’re nuts,” Makoto said, even as he held out the Magic Stick.

“Yeah, kinda. Don’t worry, I’m really still on your side in the end. We have to have faith, Makoto. If the Ultimates work together, they’ll overcome any despair. Even as their friends start dying left and right, they’ll overcome-”

Kokichi slammed into Nagito’s side, tackling him with wild, furious abandon. Like he was the madman. The knife fell to one side, and so they had to resolve their problems in the most age-old method known to man. Fists. While Kokichi was boiling hot, Nagito didn’t seem to mind, even as he got smacked upside the face.

Monokuma, no longer so smug and secure in his victory, extended his claws, and stepped forward. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Makoto! Give me the Stick! You guys can’t fight me! Just trying to escape or defeat me never works! I told you before, this is Danganronpa! It’s how this series goes! ‘Boo hoo, Mister Monokuma, we want our smol bean angel rolls to survive and have babies!’ Well, tough fucking titties! I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times; the killing game is eternal!”

It was getting harder to tell which was the insane being ranting about how Makoto’s friends had to die, and which was the stuffed bear. Their ramblings were both incomprehensible.

He couldn’t let either of them have their way. This was the moment where he could make an actual difference. Even if he knew what might happen.

In a normal situation, Makoto wouldn’t just up and die for other people. That was just human nature, in fact. However, their situation was so far from normal, right? The stuffed teddy bear ranting about despair just proved it. Common sense, and common wisdom, had no place on this island tonight.

If he couldn’t at least do as much as Kokichi, of all people, how could he live with the shame?

Makoto laughed. Just as Nagito had laughed. He sounded just as nuts.

It was just time to get a little bit crazy.

He didn’t think about what happened next. He made no plans. It just happened. He wound up to toss the Magic Stick like a spear, back into the island. He had to hope it would land near one of his friends. If Nagito wanted to put so much faith into hope, and believing in the Ultimates, he couldn’t do any less!

“Aaah!”

Then, because of his own rain-drenched fatigue, faltering grip, and paradoxically bad luck, the motion of him winding up tossed the Magic Stick. Backwards. Into the ocean, with all his meager strength.

Away it went, through the air, as Monokuma swore up a new storm.

The two boys rolling around in the dirt looked up at it as it sailed away into the darkness.

“Nice one, Makoto,” Nagito said, as if he hadn’t just tried to sell everyone out. For, well. Makoto still didn’t even understand why. But he was so casual about the whole thing. So casual about the fact that he stuck a knife in Makoto’s face and robbed hm. What had happened to this guy, that he acted like life and death were just jokes? What was wrong in him?

By contrast, Kokichi was getting heated, and looked ready to punch Nagito right in his fucking smug face. A policy Makoto would have, in that moment, entirely supported.

Why was the more reasonable person the guy who declared he was God a handful of minutes ago?

Those minutes felt like hours. Makoto could only drop to his knees in exhaustion. At least this outcome meant Monokuma wasn’t going to get the damn Stick. He threw a wrench into whatever his plans were.

That would have to be good enough.

After the entire day, the ups and downs, and finally, the heart-pounding crisis right at the end, as night fell over the island, he had nothing left. Mentally or physically. He didn’t look over at Monokuma or the other guys. He just knew even if he was attacked, he couldn’t dodge it or run. The flames had them boxed in by now, anyway.

Whatever happened next, was whatever.

“It’s over, Monokuma,” Makoto said, reaching Nagito’s level of serenity as he sat in the mud.

“Fucking nerds, you’re so lucky I want you to kill each… other…” Monokuma stopped his ranting at the college students before it really got off the ground.

Something caught his beady eye, something in the air over the ocean. Although the wind, rain, and darkness conspired to make an awful soup of chaos that was nearly impossible to see through, he spotted something. “Uh oh.”

Then, Makoto saw it, too. “... Usami?!”

Had she been flying around over there on her little wings, at exactly that moment?

No way.

Monokuma threw a tantrum, even as Makoto let out a sigh of relief. “Luck is the most _bullshit_ talent! Seriously! _Goddamnit!_ I just want you to murder your friends, is that really so much to-”

The latest thing happening too fast for Makoto to react to it was Usami’s flying kick. Which she delivered at the speed of sound. Makoto was certain of that, because the sonic boom nearly knocked all three of the guys off the edge, and probably carried all throughout the island, threatening to shatter glass and eardrums. The white rabbit slammed into Monokuma, leaving a huge crater in their wake as they moved further inland.

Luckily, that put out a lot of the napalm or whatever that was, too. Giving them a path back towards the rest of the island.

Aside from the howl of the wind and rain, and the occasional rumble of distant thunder or explosions, there was silence.

“Well!” Nagito said, still pinned beneath Kokichi, “Let’s go find out who won. Good fight, guys.”

Makoto shook his head, and looked up at Nagito’s captor. “Kokichi… you stole the Magic Stick in the first place. You said hope and despair can both go to hell. So why did you help me?”

Kokichi glared at him hatefully. “You two fucked up my plan to become king of the hill. Well, okay, the Magic Stick was probably not a winning proposition anyway. But even an idiot, or an evil mastermind, knows that it’s better to have good neighbors, rather than bad neighbors.” He looked down at Komaeda. “I can’t believe you don’t even know that much.”

“Well, I _am_ just trash. Sorry.” Nagito gave the conversational equivalent of a shrug, as he still couldn’t move his arms.

“Tch. I’m just glad neither of you are as boring as I thought. Tonight wasn’t a total loss.” Kokichi produced a pair of white gloves from his jacket, and gingerly picked up the knife from the mud. “Talk about stainless steel.” He readied the weapon, but got up off of Nagito. “I can’t tie you up, so could you just behave yourself?”

“Hey, I’m no danger now. Attacking you guys wouldn’t create any hope. In fact, we’re all on the same side.”

Makoto shook his head in outrage. “You can’t just flip a switch like that whenever you-”

“Oh, cool. Glad to hear it.” Kokichi pocketed the knife, and then set off down the path, stepping through the impact crater and back up onto the densely-packed muddy dirt road. Leaving just Nagito, and Makoto.

“Kokichi! Hey, wait!” Guy still, always, just did whatever he wanted, huh.

Komaeda got to his feet, and brushed off his green jacket as much as he could. His white fluffy hair was in terrible disarray, and nearly flat from the rain.

“I don’t suppose an apology will help?”

Makoto crossed his arms and glared. It wasn’t an expression he adopted often, because rage was rarely his style. But after the hellish sweep of emotions, peaks and valleys he’d been forced through since the start of the chase, what remained of his patience and diplomacy was burned totally away. Being threatened, and nearly betrayed, had funny effects on people.

“I won’t forget what you tried to do, Nagito. And tomorrow morning at the strategy meeting, everyone else is going to know, too.” Makoto glanced over towards the benches, which had survived the absurd bedlam. Those benches were where Makoto and the others had discovered Nagito and Hajime sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder, not nearly one hour ago.

Where had that hour gone? Where had the world as he knew it an hour ago gone? Why couldn’t he have it back?

“Hajime’s gonna know all about it.”

“If you think that’s for the best,” Nagito shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of friends accusing each other. But, I will have to deny it and say you were the one trying to betray the group, if it comes to that.”

“You’d go that far?!”

“Only if you accuse me. I mean, that’s the obvious defense, since it’s a he-said-he-said situation. No evidence, and the only witness is seventy percent lie, and thirty percent water.” Nagito grinned, and the intensity in his eyes was back. “I honestly couldn’t predict his actions even if I tried. So you might win, or I might win. Or maybe we’d both become ‘evil’ in the eyes of the group. Or nothing would come of it.

That’s dumb, though. We should be friends instead. I mean, you and me. We’re not so different. We both want hope to prevail, we just disagree on methods. _And we’re both garbage, compared to the Ultimates.”_

Nagito might have decided to pin his colors on ‘hope’ to the point where he’d sacrifice anything for it, but Makoto didn’t fancy being part of that sacrifice, thanks.

Finding their way back to the climax of the battle wasn’t difficult. All they had to do was follow the huge blast craters and scars on the land, all the way back to Tranquility Beach.

The scene there was striking. Makoto was so immersed in absurdity, and drenched, and shivering, and going through stale adrenaline and terror, that he wasn’t able to feel surprised anymore. His stock of astonishment had been depleted, he was out until at least tomorrow.

Watching Monokuma and his sixteen massive robots face off with Usami, and her sixteen similar huge robots, didn’t bother him. Nor was he surprised to see Monokuma cower and grovel in the sand before his stuffed foe.

“Hey, Usami! Let’s be reasonable about this! I mean, I did win our initial duel. So really, you should have to give me the Stick, like you agreed.”

Usami wasn’t having any of it. “Even if it’s dangerous, I’m not going to hold back anymore!” She spun the Magic Stick around, and illuminated the beach in a bright pink glow. She charged up immense power within her staff, much quicker than before. In a matter of seconds. The magic in the air was visible in currents rolling from all sides into the Magic Stick.

“E-Even if you already know what’s going to happen to everyone, if you do?” Like Usami, Monokuma was clearly equipped to sweat profusely when nervous. Despite being a robot. Sure.

“If I don’t eradicate you, right here, and right now, you’ll just kill them anyway!”

More and more Ultimates filtered back over to the beach, watching on the outskirts, staying clear of the confrontation. Makoto was relieved to see a lack of heavy injuries, or blood. Even though some of the students had been going toe-to-toe with the mechs. That at least backed up what he figured about the machines not actually trying to hurt anyone. They’d done quite a convincing acting job, though.

They were really dedicated to their purpose, that death game stuff. Taking out some of the participants might have interfered with those plans. Although probably not as much as them losing and being humiliated, as was unfolding before Makoto’s very eyes.

“Well _yeah_. But I’d do it in elaborate and drawn-out ways. Hey, it’s better then what they’ve got waiting for them when they learn why you really-”

**“FINISHING MOVE! GIGA!”**

“W-Wait! C’mon! Have a heart! I promise I won’t give them any more spoilers if you let me live!”

**“FRIENDSHIP!”**

“We can work together! You know you’ll need me to help repair the damage-”

**“BEEEEEAAAAAMMMM!”**

The sky, sea, and land split apart.

Darkness was vanquished for a moment, and the entire island was bathed in light so bright, Makoto thought the day had returned magically. A blinding white energy beam, dozens of meters long, fired from the Magic Stick. The column of energy easily absorbed Monokuma, and all of the Monosals. They vanished into the burning brilliance. The ground shook, and the swirling storm clouds parted, as shockwaves blasted through the beachfront.

Makoto had to cover his face as the ground shook. Divine fury, of the kind Angie spoke about, was unleashed. For just a few moments.

After it was finished, he peeked up, and saw that the light was gone. As was Monokuma; reduced to atoms, along with most of his robots. There was no trace of them left, they were cleansed by the great burning beam. The few mechs on the outskirts of the blast were merely reduced to so much black and white scrap metal.

Silence fell upon the battlefield, save for the crash of high waves on the beach, and the sound of the constant, but weakening, rain. The weather relented as quickly as it had worsened. Soon, the rain was just a pitter-patter. The black clouds remained overhead, though, and the sun remained firmly set, as it would.

Nobody yelled, or screamed, or cursed. No rockets or bullets flew overhead. The impossibly powerful magical attack they all witnessed ended the battle in a single stroke. Only Usami, her shut-down robots, and her shell-shocked students, remained in one piece.

Nobody knew what to say, until Kaito clambered atop one of the ruined Monosals, and cleared his throat. “Okay! First things first. Anybody injured? Anybody need help?”

The Ultimate Nurse, Mikan, was the closest thing the crew had to professional medical help. Even if she herself would talk endlessly about hoping a doctor was around, there just wasn’t one, and she was clearly plenty skilled enough to help everyone anyhow. She cleared her throat. “Ahem. S-So far, nobody has been severely hurt at all, shot, crushed, or burned! Thankfully.”

“Awesome. We made it, guys! Somehow, we got that damn stick back to Usami and look what happened. That Monokuma wasn’t so tough after all. We made the right call, standing with HPA. Even so, everyone’s about to fall over! And you look like you’re still fixated on all those dumb mysteries. Tch.

Worryin’ about maybes and what-ifs is pointless, at any time of day! All that matters is we all made it through in one piece. And Monokuma’s history, along with his bots. Now it’s time for us to return to our hotels and get some rest.” Kaito said, glancing over to the massive black-glassed burn scar upon the beach landscape.

That would still be there tomorrow, no doubt. In fact, the damage to the island itself would probably take a ton of time to recover.

“Hey! Uranus lover! W-What if something happens?!” Miu demanded, breathing hard and panting for a reason other than the most obvious one. “Monokuma’s gone, but what about those two traitors?! He said they were already among us! W-waiting to sneak into our bedrooms, and v-violate us! In various ways!”

“Classy,” Kokichi said, checking out his nails again to make sure no mud or dirt had gotten in there.

Priorities.

“And don’t even get me started on fuckin’ you, you lyin’ little abortion! You’re the damn reason this whole situation got so heated and sticky!”

Makoto glanced over at Nagito. He returned the gaze calmly, and smiled at him.

“We don’t even know if that’s legit,” Kaito replied, rubbing the back of his head. “What Monokuma told us about the traitors. And we’re sure not going to be able to find out tonight.”

‘We can’t live in fear,” Kaede said, hands on her hips. “A lot of us won’t be able to sleep very well, wondering if we’re ever going to wake up again.”

Nagito nodded. “It’s like when a bomb threat gets called in to a school. It doesn’t matter how credible the threat seems, or doesn’t seem. The school still has an obligation to act as though the threat is real, and take every measure against it.”

“Because if they don’t,” Sakura intoned in her deep, gravelly voice, “The consequences could be fatal.”

“We can at least do something tonight, without going nuts with paranoia.” Kaede pondered for a moment. “Ooh! I propose that three volunteers from each class guard the hotel areas, shifting off at three-hour intervals.”

Makoto checked his Hope Pad, and was shocked to see it claim that it was barely 2200 hours. Ten o’clock. At least the clouds overhead relented on the rain, and some of them even let up enough to shine a full moon down upon them, so there was some amount of comforting light. Enough to see each other, and see the exhausted, waterlogged looks on everyone’s faces.

Days were long on a tropical island, but this one had ended in odd fashion. The unnaturally forceful stormfront, combined with the exhausting long day and the crisis at the end left every Ultimate drained and feeling like it was well past midnight. Even most of the ones who kept later hours, and among college students there were plenty of those, wouldn’t be likely to have any trouble getting to sleep.

“Alright. Anybody against that?” Kaito asked, and got silence. “Okay, it’s done. Class 1! Who’s up for standing watch?”

“Mukuro’s built for that kind of duty,” Junko volunteered, very selflessly. Makoto scratched his chin, and looked over at Mukuro.

She glanced at him. Makoto wasn’t expecting to get any kind of reaction from the Ultimate Soldier, so he was shocked to the point of his eyes going wide when she gave him a small, helpless shrug.

“Naturally, I will help out, if it means that everyone else may rest peacefully. Today was draining on the mind, body, and soul,” Sakura said gravely, crossing her arms.

“Right on, ladies. I wouldn’t want to be a bad guy around either of you, that’s for sure. One more! Need one more volunteer! C’mon, step up, or I’ll start volunteering your asses for you-”

“I’ll do it.” Many surprised stares went Kyouko’s way, but she held her ground, arms crossed as she tried to pull her purple coat more closed around her. She still had the upper hand on some girls, who were half-undressed or more. In the cold rain. “I won’t be sleeping, anyway.”

“Awesome, Kyouko!” Kaito gave her a big thumbs-up, and she let out a sigh.

The guards agreed among themselves that they would go Mukuro-Sakura-Kyouko. “Class 2! What you got?”

“Naturally, I will stand watch, and ensure any intruders or attackers… deeply regret their actions.” Peko still had her bokken out, and her red eyes glowed in the darkness, beneath her glasses. Even in just moonlight, her tensed-up body, covered in nothing but a sleek, confident jet-black bikini, had been a sight to see during the party, and even more so afterwards, as she got one hell of a workout with everyone else.

Byakuya Twogami, as Ibuki had taken to calling her class’s version of the arrogant scion, stepped forward. “I will assume this burden as well. Honestly, I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the job.”

“Awesome. Okay, how about a third-”

“Yo. I can do it.”

This one was an even bigger shock. Makoto gawked at the young-looking man raising his hand. “Fuyuhiko?”

“Tch. It’s just like the fat bastard said. I ain’t gonna put my life into the hands of no stranger!”

“Well, it’s not like we can doubt that the Ultimate Yakuza can handle himself,” Kaede said, rubbing her forehead. She may not have been thrilled with being expected to trust ‘somebody who admits to being a crime lord’ to her face, but options were thin for other people to volunteer giving up precious sleep. Plus, if there was any incident overnight, where it happened, and when, would give away a lot of critical information. Nobody stepping up to be the night watchmen would be dumb enough to implicate themselves.

Makoto was quietly horrified at how fast, and how naturally, crime, and preventing it, came to the forefront of everyone’s minds. Most especially including himself. He didn’t want to believe anybody was capable of it, but Nagito himself provided an excellent example of how he much he still didn't know about everyone.

It didn’t take long for the volunteers to work out their schedule. Twogami-Peko-Fuyuhiko.

“Last but not least, 53! Gonta! Tenko! You guys got anything better to be doing?”

“Definitely not,” Gonta shook his head. “Gonta want to keep everybody safe, so he will be glad to take guard job!” The huge man removed his glasses, trying them on a beach towel, only to find that it was already soaking, and this had no effect. He frowned. Makoto had watched the muscular man fighting with the Monosals in the brief flashes of vision he got through the forest during the chase, and he had transformed into a beastly rage monster. Only to now return to a mild-mannered guy with messy, long green hair, glasses, and broken Japanese.

Tenko wrinkled up her face at being addressed by a degenerate male, but showed admirable restraint, and merely nodded. She refrained from so much as opening her mouth, as though Kaito would make her physically ill if she tried to speak. That, or she was already at risk of catching a cold in a bikini, in this weather.

“And of course, there’s only one pick for the final guard!” Yeah. It was just like Kaito to volunteer himself like that- “Shuichi!”

“Um. I don’t really know if…”

“Nobody will be able to try any funny business tonight with the Ultimate Detective on the case!” Kaito slapped Shuichi on the back, presumably hard, as Makoto was learning was his way. At least with other guys. Makoto strongly suspected that if he tried to pull that with Kaede, she would hit him right back.

Shuichi pulled his hat down and blushed. “... If you all think that’s best…”

Everyone nodded in approval. “Even if there are bad actors among us, they would not dare to put any scheme into motion under the watchful eyes of the Ultimate Detective,” Kiyo agreed, raising a heavily-bandaged finger on a heavily-bandaged hand. “Delightful. So then, Shuichi-Tenko-Gonta?”

“Nnngh… being sandwiched by males…” Tenko looked about ready to chew her own thumb off at the prospect, but she did not object. Neither did the other ‘volunteers’.

Thus, it was settled.

“All other business can damn well wait until the morning! Uh, that is, for the crew.”

Kokichi sighed. “Come on, Kaito. Thanks to the giant shitshow, we’re all members of the crew now.”

“You say that as though you weren’t a primary factor in the chaos,” Tsumugi observed idly, reaching down to adjust her still-outrageous sling bikini. Makoto found himself regretting that he didn’t see how either Junko or Tsumugi handled trying to run with that showy type of swimsuit on. And how it handled their curves. Even at rest, the swimsuit looked hopelessly on the verge of falling off or letting vital elements slip.

Kaito shook his head. “Really? How’s that? We’re all eying each other up! Not exactly my idea of unity.”

Kokichi explained, as one would to a slow, small child, “Even the holdouts who don’t want to go along with your stupid treehouse-club routine can’t sit by. If most of the entire population joins a group, given the current uncertain circumstances, they’d have no choice but to pitch in, or be left out in the cold, my darling Kaito.”

“I guess you’re right for once, Kokichi. And don’t ever call me that again. Alright, then!” Kaito slammed his fists together. “Everybody, tomorrow after breakfast, we’ll meet at the park on Central Island! Then, Usami’s got a lot of things to answer for.”

“Agreed… What a terrifying evening…” Usami quivered. As if she wasn’t the same entity that made that massive blast-scar beside Kaito. For that matter, she made Kaito’s stage, too, by obliterating an entire force of enemy robots with a gigantic energy blast. Yet, when Kaito yelled, she was eager to kowtow. “I’m so glad you’re all safe…”

“And that’s also when anybody who has any info about the killing game, Monokuma, the traitors, or anything should come forward and talk to everyone about it!” Kaito said. Makoto tensed up as he stared at Nagito again. He remembered. More like, he'd never be able to forget. That mixture of hope and despair in such a fanatical, pure form that its intensity was frightening.

Yet now, he was back to just hanging out with everyone, standing around Hajme. Making little dumb jokes back and forth with him, and pitching in on group discussions. As if he hadn’t just done what he did. It was another worrying sign about him, that he could shift gears like that, so profoundly, when it suited him.

Whatever he might have said about being on the same side as Makoto, his actions screamed ‘traitor’ to the other Ultimate Lucky Student.

But could Makoto speak up? Not only was Nagito frightening, but he wasn’t wrong on that front. The incident at lookout point could become a simple case of flinging accusations back and forth. The only evidence, Kokichi's testimony, was uncertain.

Not that most of the crew would be inclined to believe the words of an actual megalomaniac, whether or not he backed Makoto’s accusations up.

So he was back to square one. Nothing.

Kaito wrapped up his little speech. “We’ve got guards. We’ve got plans. We’re all just beaten down and worn out. Get some rest! That’s my first order as Captain, and Kaede agrees? Yeah. Which makes it unanimous!”

“Wonderful progress. One day, we’re already forming a mini-society… of sorts.” Kiyo nodded in approval to himself. “I suppose having an external enemy to rally against is a key element. Usami wasn’t a very… stimulating opponent to rally against. That Monokuma, though. Quite effective.” He hugged himself creepily.

“Studies and experiments couldn’t show me a fraction of the beauty I’m likely to witness here. Kukuku.”

Kiyo raised a good point. What happened tonight, and the battle between hope and despair, could have been interpreted many ways. The way everyone talked about Usami saw a radical shift.

Makoto doubted that was all planned. Like some stage play for their benefit. Given all the shit he went through to try and keep the Magic Stick out of the wrong hands. In fact, he was convinced that they’d narrowly avoided a big disaster. However, he could hear the others murmur, mutter, and discuss it. They hadn't seen what he had tonight.

Some Ultimates were noticeably less enthused than others to be taking orders from Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars. However, Kaito’s point about how dead everyone was proved itself when even the most ornery and cantankerous members of the groups couldn’t even raise one word of objection to his reign. Not the Ultimate Yakuza, nor the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, nor the Ultimate Men-Hating Aikido Master. They all just shuffled up and off the beach, onto the path, and everyone headed for their hotels with the rest of their classes.

“Everyone, a word before we split up.” Twogami cleared his throat. “We all have our own thoughts on what happened here tonight. That’s to be expected. Regardless of what you think, though, be on guard. Never forget that our most critical danger is not from outsiders. Or possible traitors in our ranks.”

Togami saw where he was going, and nodded, smirking. “The greatest danger of all…”

“... is from ourselves.” Both Togamis finished in unison.

In the silence that followed, only one more person had anything to say.

“Lock your doors~” Kokichi merrily shouted into the night.

Thus ended the first day on Gopher Island. A day which promised dizzying hope, and threatened deepest despair.

In the end, they triumphed over the threat, and the Ultimates were united. Save a snake or two in their midst, waiting to strike.

No one died though. Even when that seemed certain during the chaos.

This was the start of their journey together. A journey of truth and lies. Hope and despair. Nobody on Gopher Island, not any of the Ultimates, not even Usami herself, could predict where the winding, twisting river of fate would eventually take them.

Or how much hardship would be waiting for them along the way.

There were still questions. More then than ever before, after the battle.

Why were they on this island? What happened to their memories?

Who was behind Usami, and who had been behind Monokuma?

What were the other Ultimates like? What secrets were they keeping?

What was the Ultimate Hunt? Who were the traitors lurking among them?

As soon as Makoto got to a bed, he was out, surrendering to sleep. And odd dreams about stuffed animals.

**-**

**ACT 0: A Brave New World**

**END**

**-**


	11. 1-1. The Beautiful Morning (Multiple)

**M** akoto Naegi woke and made a series of groundbreaking discoveries.

For instance, he was in his clothes rather than white trunks. Pants, shirt, even a green hoodie. Even shoes. In bed. He was free of mud, dirt, and sweat. Somehow, in the haze of fatigue, he’d gotten a shower off, and some clothes on, before dying on the bed.

Why had he even put on the shoes, if he was just in his room?

He tried to hit the alarm clock on the nightstand in response to an imaginary buzzer. Pure habit. Since there wasn’t any such thing there to hit, he just banged his hand on the smooth hardwood.

Makoto tried to find his phone, mistook his tablet for it, and then really had a look at the device. He turned it over. Hope Pad. Not his tablet. There was the HPA logo. Yep. Looking around, this sure strongly resembled a tropical resort cabin, and a nicely-furnished one, rather than some dorm room. Or his own room back with his family.

It sure looked for all the world like he really was stuck on an island with 47 other students. And a weird talking rabbit who alternated between lectures about friendship, and firing huge lasers and casting spells.

It was clearly impossible, and clearly absurd, and common sense said it couldn’t be happening, but oh well.

He already knew wasn’t a dream. None of it was fiction. He’d been reliving some of the highlights in his sleep, tossing and turning and throwing all these nice pink sheets about.

Huh. Pink sheets, that was a design choice. What time was it, anyway? Time to check his Hope Pad-

‘Sayaka Maizono’.

Makoto glanced down at himself in alarm.

No, he hadn’t become a pop sensation overnight. Nor did he feel any more womanly than usual. He definitely wouldn’t make any of those fancy outfits look very flattering. A lot of the male bodies on display during the Ultimate Beach Party made him want to work out more, but that wasn’t material.

These clues could only mean one thing.

“... I’ve got it!”

After assembling some words in his mind, letter by letter, because some people just needed time to process, _okay_ , he remembered last night’s events more clearly.

_“Thank goodness you’re okay, Makoto!” Sayaka ran into his arms, and they spun around. Considering the difference in their stature and physiques, it was more like Makoto got run over by a gorgeous, blue-haired train. She hugged him close, and considering they were both in nothing but soaked-through swimsuits, that meant they were very close._

_Sayaka was so warm. Soft in most places. Even the places she was hard and firm in were excessively pleasant. But tonight, the softness appealed to his need for a pillow and a bed and a rest for a few years straight. The night had been cold and full of danger, and chaos, and suspicion, and fear._

_And boiling, furious anger, a new and frightening sensation for such a mild-mannered guy._

_Nagito Komaeda._

_Makoto hugged her back, trying to force his thoughts onto an infinitely better track. While quietly apologizing to all of her fans for even breathing the same air she was._

_His ‘fellow’ Ultimate Lucky Student was right about two things, and exactly those two. Makoto couldn’t go public with literally no evidence. And Makoto was garbage compared to the real Ultimates._

_Most especially of all, Sayaka Maizono._

_An actual goddess._

_After that fight with Monokuma, he couldn’t do anything but hold her tightly. He was just as grateful that she survived the chaos as she clearly was. He even managed a genuine smile. “We got through it, because we worked together.”_

_“That’s right! Well, that’s what Kaito kept saying, too.” Others shuffled past them on the path, and as they did, the overburdened trees above the path shook in the wind. The leaves shook off water like dogs, and sprayed Makoto and Sayaka with some last little droplets. “Are you okay, though? You look really shaken up. Or like something big’s on your mind.”_

_Makoto pulled away enough to look her in the grey-blue eyes. He had to tilt his head slightly up to do that. Even wet and tired, Sayaka’s fair skin was soft, free of faults, and seemed to glow in the moonlight as if she was ethereal. “You can tell, huh?”_

_“Well, yeah. I’m psychic.”_

_Makoto stared at her, and she frowned. “This is where you laugh and tell me ‘that’s wrong’ or something.”_

_“After what’s happened tonight, I wouldn’t say something like that. I’m just wondering if you know what I’m thinking now.”_

_“That I’m just really good at reading people because of my job, and also getting kinda worried about you? Come on, Makoto. Chin up! We made it out in one piece, and we taught that Monokuma what happens when you mess with Hope’s Peak Academy!”_

_They sure did._

_Hina, in passing, elbowed Makoto from behind. Which had the net effect of pushing him into Sayaka again. “Get a room, guys! Literally! Inn’s just ahead, you can make puppy eyes at each other there!”_

_Somehow, the Ultimate Swimming Pro’s playful teasing made them both more conscious of how close they’d gotten, and they detached in a hurry, faces heating up. At least Makoto wasn’t cold anymore._

_“Ehe, that Hina. Assuming all kinds of stuff…” Sayaka laughed in that awkward manner that people did when they felt awkward. “Uh, before we get back to the hotel, though. I did have a favor I wanted to ask of you, Makoto. Totally an optional thing. And I’m probably just overthinking things.”_

_Makoto stared at her, and he saw from her own twisting smile-to-frown that he was doing the thousand-yard-stare thing again, and it was distressing to her. He faked a smile. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”_

_“Could we maybe… switch rooms? That’s not a weird thing to ask, is it?”_

_“Kinda is.” A good example of something that Makoto ‘lol normal’ Naegi would have never been able to say, on a normal day. Even though he immediately backpedalled. “Uh, not, like, weird-weird, just. You caught me off guard with that one. What’s up?”_

_“I can’t stop thinking about what Monokuma said.”_

_“Yeah,” Makoto nodded. “Trying to kill everyone has a way of making someone really memorable.”_

_“I mean, about the traitors. I’m being such a paranoid about it, but if he wasn’t lying about that… I mean, what if something happens, now that everyone’s lowered their guards? What if they’re waiting for just the right time?”_

_“I think tonight isn’t the right time,” Makoto replied. “I mean, we’ve got guards who’ll watch over each hotel area tonight.”_

_“Not to sound paranoid, but most of us don’t… know each other. Not the way that you and I do, with our past history at school and all that. So, um. I don’t want to say I suspect anybody directly. Because nobody’s done anything worthy of suspicion…”_

_“Aside from Kokichi going insane.” And Nagito going insane, in a less visible, and far more chilling way. “... I guess ‘going’ implied he was ever anywhere else.”_

_Sayaka stifled a giggle behind her hand. “I really am just being paranoid. I don’t like to talk about, uh, this kinda stuff, but. I’ve had bad experiences with fans a few times in the past. Like, ‘track me down where I live and work’ kinds of bad experiences.”_

_“No way.”_

_“It turned out fine, but… the idea that somebody is just sitting there, lurking… and all we can do is sit around and wait for it to happen… Sit here doing nothing and wondering what day, what hour…”_

_“I don’t have to be psychic to tell this is really messing with you, Sayaka. I mean, that’s natural. You’re not having any reaction a sane person shouldn’t to this whole deal. Look, nothing is going to happen. But we can trade rooms, if it’ll make you feel better.”_

_Another hug happened to Makoto, and he couldn’t help another smile._

_“Thank you! I promise, tomorrow, when Usami hopefully unlocks those new islands, I’ll do my best to keep up as your sidekick!”_

_Oh, right._ Sayaka _was_ his _sidekick._

_The very idea made a bleak, exhausted, ground-down Makoto want to scoff. It was one of the more absurd things to happen today. Unlike a lot of the other stuff, it was finally a bit of that supposed ‘good luck’ coming around to him. That was all he could credit for being noticed by the Ultimate Idol, and becoming friends with her so quickly. Knowing her from middle school, and reconnecting now at college? A lucky break._

_“If we trade Hope Pads, it’s as good as trading our room keys.”_

He could still feel that warmth.

Makoto rolled out of bed without falling on the floor, and stretched out with a sigh. According to Sayaka’s Hope Pad, it was 0557. Not even six o’clock AM. The night watchmen started at 2230 last night, three shifts of three hours, so they’d still be out there for half an hour. The idea was for them to go until daybreak, which could be any minute now. Although there wasn’t really any rule against going out while it was still night. Everyone was just so tired, he doubted many others would be up and about at this hour.

All he could see out the windows was murky predawn darkness.

He was an adult, just about. Just staying in a girl’s room shouldn’t be awkward. They were friends, after all. She was the one who came up with the idea. So clearly she wouldn’t be bothered by him hanging around her room. In fact, none of them had ever slept in the cabins before last night. The room, bits of pink decor aside, was as much his room as Sayaka’s. It shouldn’t have been weird.

It was. It just was. Not to mention, his head was full of problems without solutions. A new day should mean a fresh start, not brooding.

Makoto decided to stretch his legs, and get some air.

When he passed Sayaka’s Hope Pad over the lock and peeked outside, he couldn’t see very well. That was okay, since there wasn’t too much to see. just the rows of cabins, four of four, outwardly identical. Aside from the mailboxes with the cute little pixel art. Each one had a little light on top, but all sixteen were out.

Makoto looked to his left, at his own cabin, adjacent. They were beside each other anyway, so he could have just gone over and knocked on his own door.

Thereby probably waking Sayaka up. Like a jerk. For no reason. As if. He could sometimes barely get up the nerve to talk to her when she struck up a conversation with him.

He scanned around, and had to admit. The surroundings were beautiful, even at night. Even with all that happened. Even with a somewhat fitful night’s sleep, he could take in the island scenery. What little scenery could be seen within the walled compound.

Although it wasn’t as stark as a simple brick wall, the fencing, backed by heavy, thick shrubs, did the same job of giving the whole compound a sense of privacy and seclusion. Like the trees around the foot paths did, it felt like First Island was full of little places to slip away from the crowds. It was an appealing concept for a resort hotel, just like how each ‘room’ looked more like a very-mini-house, or the waterways beneath the paved-stone footpaths.

One thing that was open, and abundantly clear, was the sky. Those thick clouds had largely slipped away in the night, leaving only little wisps to get in the way of thousands of points of peaceful light. The stars twinkled overhead calmly, not caring about any of the little concerns or worries of the humans down below.

Maybe Kaito’s speeches about space were already starting to rub off on him. Well, he always thought space stuff was kinda cool, but only from a distance, with a normal, average person’s quiet acknowledgement that it was something he’d hear about on the news, or chat about on the forums online, but never get to participate in himself. That didn’t make all those images of rocket ships, space shuttles, and photos of other planets any less cool.

Makoto just found a certain kind of profound peace looking up there in the sky. Each point of light, its own world. So far from any of the others that it would take light itself years, or decades, to reach. They were their own secluded little worlds, and what happened on one wouldn’t even be known to the others. If there was anyone out there.

When Makoto looked down and around the cabins area, he wasn’t sure if anyone was there, either. Class 1’s guard was nowhere to be seen. The walkway connecting all sixteen cabins was utterly bare, except for himself.

He did discover the person who had agreed to be on guard, though. Trying to quietly push open the gates to the Hotel Mirai.

Kyouko Kirigiri, one of the Ultimate students who couldn’t remember their talent.

She was an enigma. So quiet, stoic, and antisocial that she rarely was around anybody long enough to let a conversation happen. She got the Hope Fragments, but Makoto had the impression that she introduced herself under duress. And never said much of anything when she did, before leaving to find the next person. Either she had been left stricken, and couldn’t even remember basic things about herself, which was a terrifying prospect to even think about, much less have to live with… or she was keeping quiet for her own reasons.

A certain guy’s laugh echoed through his mind, and Makoto shook his head, sending messy, short spiky brown hair every which way. The ahoge atop his head wiggled like an antenna being moved to find a signal. Or in this case, block out one he wanted to forget just for a little bit.

Kyouko’s color scheme was dominated by purple, starting with her cool, clear eyes. She had lighter purple hair, long, and with a bit of a braid in front. And she had that cool jacket, also a darker purple, and set of black gloves she wore constantly.

Yesterday, she’d passed on Usami’s offer of swimwear, just like Celeste. In fact, she barely stayed at the Ultimate Beach Party at all, wandering off to do her own thing. Just like now.

His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn’t help calling out to her. “Kyouko, right?”

“Correct.” She replied in an automatic, almost robotic fashion, with no feeling behind the words. She leaned out from the open gate to peer outside into the island. “The other early-risers are in the Restaurant.”

Then, she left.

Makoto followed out the hotel gate, of course. “H-Hey, hold up! Where are you going?”

“I’ve got something to check out.”

Makoto scratched his chin. “But aren’t you the guard until six-thirty?”

“The sun will be up any minute. Nothing has happened all night. Somehow, I think you’ll all survive.”

That seemed like an inadequate reason for Makoto. He was compelled to keep pressing. “Well, what’s the rush?”

Kyouko let out a sigh of annoyance. “We’re merely acquaintances. I don’t have any reason to tell you anything.”

Ice cold.

“However, I’ll give you a hint. If you settle a point of curiosity for me first.”

“Uh, sure?”

  
Kyouko turned around on the heel of her boots, and folded her arms. “Are you really fine with dying for that girl?”

Makoto stared in silence. Not a stony, resolved, hostile silence, but one of shock.

“Oh, you haven’t even realized.” Kyouko rubbed her forehead. “Okay, Makoto, consider the room swap.”

“The what?”

“That’s insulting.”

“Seriously, what?”

“I have ears.”

“Yeah, but everyone was going to the hotels. So what gives?”

“I like to take my time and enjoy lovely walks through the forest,” Kyouko replied, giving him a blank stare. Between this one, Mukuro, and Celeste, who decided the stack his particular class with the female embodiment of a tough crowd? “And I just so happened to overhear. You two aren’t very subtle at all.”

Makoto felt less intimidation talking up to the mountain of muscles and scars called Sakura. She was, in fact, a nice, thoughtful person. Even if he still had to decline her offer to spar several times, in fear of his life. _That_ was less imposing than the glare that this Kyouko lady fixed him with.

“Back to my original question. Are you cool with taking a bullet for a girl you’ve known for all of one day?”

“You just said nothing happened, now people are going to get shot?”

“Think. Why did Sayaka ask to trade cabins with you? What’s the only possible reason she could have for doing that when she felt threatened by Monokuma’s traitors?”

“She… thought somebody might go after her.”

“Mhm. If one of the traitors is in our class, and decided to go for a high-profile target, it would be hard to get a higher profile than Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol. So if they ended up sneaking into her cabin. Who would be snoozing away on her bed, hapless and helpless?”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t you even ask her why she made such an odd request?”

“Last night, after the battle, I was so far gone I barely even remember our conversation,” Makoto replied. “Do you really think Sayaka is really like that, though?”

“I can’t say one way or the other. But she’s sure gotten friendly with you in a hurry. It’s a pretty lucky break for you to get noticed by such an amazing girl, hm?”

“What are you trying to say? Me and Sayaka knew each other in the past.” That was going a little far. They spoke to each other, years ago, some number of times. And there was that thing with the crane... “We aren’t like most everyone here, who are just strangers. I can vouch for her.”

“Then it’s understandable. Just remember, people can change. I understand, though, it's not something I can just tell you. You'll have to see it with your own eyes. Now, we had a deal. So I’ll ask you another question. How do you think that Hope’s Peak will bring supplies to the supermarket so we don’t run out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither. There, we’re even. See you later.” She turned her back to him, in spite of her air of paranoia and mistrust. That was probably a way for her to say things without just stating them outright.

Makoto clenched his fists. “Kyouko, _hang on_. What do you think about what Sayaka’s worried about? I mean, about the traitors? Are there really people among us just waiting to stab us in the back?”

“It’s too early to say anything,” Kyouko shrugged, and glanced back over her shoulder. “Every word could have been the truth, or every word could have been lies. Or the worst result. Only some were lies, and we can’t tell which. The only way we’ll know for sure is to wait, and see if somebody makes a suspicious move. Like trying to set people up in dangerous situations. Or looking for chances to start the killing game.”

“Or sneaking off to do mysterious stuff?”

Kyouko smiled, which was not the intended, nor the expected, reaction to his quip. “I guess there’s also that, yes. The fact that you’re looking at me with those eyes means there might be hope for you yet, Makoto.”

He was still tense; Makoto felt like a coiled spring of tension. “Wanna know what I think?”

“You’re interested in the guards and their schedules, and think it’s important. Which tells me everything I need to know about how concerned you are. Do you have any suspects yet?”

Makoto stared back at her, and wondered if he reacted in some way when she talked about starting the killing game. He knew something nobody else did, and he wanted to say it badly. However, what could he really say, to her?

“We’re merely acquaintances. I don’t have any reason to tell you anything.”

He tensed up, in the way any normal person would when they expected to be in a confrontation or disagreement. It was an unpleasant sensation, which was why most people, in most situations, avoided those conflicts however they could.

The events of last night made it abundantly clear that he couldn’t turn his head away, close his eyes, or just pretend any of this wasn’t happening. He had to face it head-on, whatever came his way.

Kyouko nodded in approval. “It’s possible I had you wrong, Makoto. I’m sorry. Have a good one.”

She took her leave. At a pace that implied she was not up for being followed. Makoto wasn’t even sure he could have kept up at a dead sprint. His legs still ached from the struggle in the forest. He felt like he went too hard at the gym, and rubbed the sore part of his leg as he went back inside.

And immediately encountered a man in a bright, shining white uniform. Even in just starlight, it was impossible to miss somebody with blazing red eyes, a pure white uniform with polished medals on top, and a very loud voice. “Good morning, Makoto!”

“Morning, Taka.”

Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Moral Compass, shook his head, and demanded better. Like a cartoonish drill sergeant. “Hm? What was that?! Speak clearly, and enunciate!”

“Taka, you do know we're not actually in high school anymore, right-”

“I can still dream! Those three years were the prime of our lives, Makoto! We just let them slip away without really appreciating that! It was a time of order and structure to our lives. Instead of… this! So, good morning!”

Some people said that high school was hell, and that it was really your years as a university student that were the best. Not that Makoto would know until he got something resembling an actual college education. Seemed unlikely. He took a deep breath. “Good morning, Taka. Better?”

“A little!”

Makoto found a smile coming more naturally than when he had it force it last night with Sayaka. “Did you get enough sleep? If you’re up this early-”

“This is my normal wake-up time! I wasn’t worried and unable to sleep, and hoping fervently that everyone was safe! In fact, everybody should wake up this early, so they’re ready to meet the day and rise with the sun! Like this entire great nation!”

As Taka said, dawn was upon them. Cold was going to be replaced with the warm embrace of the tropical sun, and darkness was already slowly giving way to light. The horizon wasn’t visible over the fence, but bits of the sky were lighting up, and the clouds could now be seen more clearly. White and fluffy, thankfully.

“Ah. Maybe waking everybody up isn’t the best idea, though.” College students were known for many things. Waking up early every day like soldiers was not one of them. “I mean, things were pretty rough yesterday. Shouldn’t we give everyone a bit longer?”

Taka nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose the shock of recent events would throw lesser men into spirals of worry and paranoia.”

Sure could.

“Are you hungry, Makoto? Mondo has been preparing a bit of pre-breakfast for us early-risers.”

“Mondo? Like, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader?”

“I was also astonished! Both that he _could_ cook, and that he _would_ offer to do so, for the welfare of the group! Yet, he could, and did! And he makes one heck of a pancake! Myself, and Chihiro, were delighted to find that out firsthand.”

“So, it’s been the three of you hanging out in the Insomnia Squad?”

“I wouldn’t call it that!” Ishimaru reprimanded him as they passed the empty poolside. “However, that is correct. Well, Chihiro was really the one who just could not sleep at all, poor thing. She’s, well. You’ve met her too. A kind heart, and empathy for your fellow man, can be taken too far!”

“Which you wouldn’t know anything about.”

“Of course not! I wake up this time every morning, without fail! Uh, it is worth noting that Chihiro was the one who woke up Mondo. By knocking on his door, since he was her neighbor. And asking him to escort her to the restroom.”

“But we all have a bathroom in our cabins.”

“Yes.”

“And Mondo is terrifying. And Chihiro is small and scared.”

“Correct.”

“Awesome.”

“Mondo figured at that point that Chihiro was too scared to think straight. So he stayed up with the little lady through the night. Even if there was a traitor in our midst, a theory I find highly doubtful, even the most ruthless villain would think twice before trying to break into the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader’s bungalow! I’m told that his gang, the Crazy Diamonds, has a code about treating women properly. It’s astonishing, isn’t it? To find noble qualities even in such… individuals. He even spoke highly of his family! Filial piety, in one such as him!”

Makoto had to admit, his perspective on life was a little different as he entered the open-air restaurant was was greeted by Chihiro’s smiling face. It was physically impossible to have anything but a bit of joy when he saw that.

Makoto still nearly got punched in the face for saying the wrong thing to Mondo, though.

The pancakes were excellent, though.

So worth it.

 

* * *

 

 **H** ajime Hinata had dark and ominous dreams of the future.

He dreamt of being hunted and pursued.

He dreamt of a constricting, coiling despair that wrapped around his chest, and squeezed him until air was a distant, fond memory.

He dreamt of…

“Nnngh!”

It didn't matter what his actual dreams were. Because when he awoke, he was covered in Mikan Tsumiki, the Ultimate Nurse.

She was in his bed, hugging him tightly with her huge tree-trunk legs. Those were locked firmly around Hajime’s waist. Each leg might have actually been thicker than his body. Certainly, combined, they dwarfed his torso in size, and squeezed him like a boa constrictor. If it was just that pressure, the experience might have been truly terrifying.

However, there was a balance. The upside to this situation? Mikan was soft, large, and warm. By pressing up against him and clinging so tightly, Hajime got to experience that like never before. Mikan was in her nurse outfit, the short dress with apron and assorted, hopefully cosmetic, bandaging. It was a lot of material, but there was so much more Mikan there than anything.

If he could breathe, it would be a sweet situation. Although the fact that he had no clue how a girl ended up in his cabin, much less in his bed, was alarming in its own way. Usami, last night, had explained that the locks on each cabin should have been impossible to pick, and would only open for a person’s Hope Pad.

So, provided a person didn’t open their own door to an attacker, they were probably safe as literal houses. Especially with a guard nearby to hear any attempts at forced entry.

Yet clearly, the purple-haired caregiver found her way to him.

The rays of light from the morning sun were already peeking through his window, shining down upon her face, which was, for once, at peace as she slept. When she wasn’t freaking out, or steeping in a spiral of self-loathing, which was basically just when she was asleep, Mikan was heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Man, Hajime. You need to tap out before the ref has to stop the match!”

Hajime would have jumped out of his own skin at that remark, if he was capable of moving even slightly. The only direction to go would have been snuggling closer up with Mikan, and although this situation was great, he didn’t feel comfortable doing that until he had some answers.

Answers that Ibuki Mioda was unlikely to have.

The punk-rocker girl sat on the edge of his bed, surveying the absurd situation laid out before her and clicking her tongue. “I guess more guys nowadays list ‘could crush me to death like a soda can’ as virtue rather than vice. I’ll have to stop skipping leg day, huh Nagito?”

Hajime looked over, past Ibuki, and saw that the door to his cabin was just open, and Nagito was looking in with an expression of mild concern.

“Hajime, are you cheating on me already?”

Why even give the damn cabins doors and locks if this was going to happen?

“Help… me….” Hajime gasped out with the last of his air. That seemed to light a fire under them to try and remove Mikan, but the efforts of a musician and a fluff didn’t amount to much versus her grip strength. At least them trying to pry her loose shook Mikan enough for her to open her eyes.

Hajime and Mikan stared at each other for a few moments. Her death-grip somehow tightened. He wondered if he was going to die.

Then Mikan let out a high-pitched wail, and released him. _“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”_ Backing away… and falling right onto the floor, smacking what looked like her head in the process. And of course, falling spread-eagle, which, given her position and relatively short nurse skirt, meant that things were very clearly visible for him.

Wonderful things.

Today’s running theme was ‘I’d enjoy this if not for…’ Hajime was fine with eyeing up girls. But first, he had to make sure Mikan wasn’t actually hurt. Some nurse.

“Mikan, are you-”

_“What was that?!”_

_“It came from the cabins over here!”_

**_“SOMEBODY LET OUT A_ TERRIFYING SCREAM!”**

_“Look who’s talking.”_

Voices from outside the open door, and not far.

Hajime had no time to prepare himself. Ibuki and Nagito shared a look, developed unsettlingly large grins, and dove onto the bed with Hajime. They rolled themselves up in a tangled mess of blankets and limbs, regardless of his startled protests.

Thus presenting quite an impressive view for everyone to dramatically walk into the room and find. Or at least, Teruteru, Nekomaru, and Peko.

Teruteru nodded in approval at all he saw before him. “Starting early? And you’ve drawn a wide selection, hm. Very nice, Hajime. I see you are also a… man of culture. _Bon_.”

Peko Peko Pekoyama was less thrilled. “Hajime.”

“This isn’t what it-”

The contempt in Peko’s eyes was clear, but it also conveyed her lack of killing intent. There was just pity there in those deep reds. “At least lock your door, if you don’t want troublesome elements to find you.” She pushed her glasses further up her face, and then turned and walked away. “Or for something worse to happen.”

Somehow, the fact that Peko didn’t buy the scene in front of her was, itself, the most insulting thing of all. “I… did…”

“I can’t fault your spirit though, Hajime!” Nekomaru said, pointing dramatically. “But you should really get to know each other first, before you commit to these kinds of things! **You still have my full suppoooort if it will make you all haaaaaappy!”**

Hajime just laid back in his bed. Ibuki and Nagito grabbed an arm each, and barely stifled their childish giggles.

“... Breakfast.”

“Hm? What was that? Speak up!” The Ultimate Team Manager demanded. “I can’t hear you!”

“Can I not fucking get to breakfast without Wacky Antics breaking out?!”

“Hey, we merely thought somebody was being stabbed in here,” Teruteru said, combing his hair and trying to play it cool. A difficult proposition, when one was, in fact, Teruteru. As he proceeded to demonstrate with his very next, extremely witty, line. “I see you were still getting to that, _merci_. Shall we head over to the kitchen, Nekomaru? Or did you want to talk more with me about… It?”

 **“THE KITCHEN IS FIIINE!”** Nekomaru yelled, and then ran. He was pursued by the much smaller, more round man. “ **AND YOU DON’T GET ANY MORE ‘IT’ UNTIL YOU STOP BEING A CREEPER!”**

 _“Lifetime ban. Harsh,”_ Nagito said, mumbling into the pile of blankets.

 _“Any_ more _?”_ Ibuki pondered from the other side, as she rolled around in Hajime’s pillows. _“I would have loved to unlock that bonus CG!”_

_“We’ll agree to disagree on that.”_

Mikan’s soft sobbing and laments over the total loss of her dignity, and how she wasn’t able to get married anymore, was the only noise left. That, and the gentle roll of the ocean waves very distantly outside, along with the peaceful call of seagulls.

Hajime sighed like his soul was escaping his body. “... Mikan, are you okay? You took quite a spill there.”

“Also, close your legs, sweetie,” Nagito added, his head poking out as he looked over the edge of the bed, and to the floor, which was still covered in quite a generous amount of thicc nurse.

“ _..... Eeeeeee!_ I didn’t even notice that! Now I can’t even get engaged! Everyone knows that I wear white cotton panties now!”

She seriously didn’t realize she was in that convoluted, improbable pose for, what, a minute and a half? And did she really need to announce it to the world, too?

“Ibuki will in fact add that to her notes,” Ibuki smirked to herself like a scheming little gremlin, as her nose grew long and pointy.

Needless to say, Teruteru had a fabulous, literal world-class breakfast spread prepared for them by the time Hajime and his ‘’’’’party’’’’’’ got ready to meet the day, and headed to the restaurant.

By way of the lobby, so that Hajime could get more encounter spawns. So to speak. That metaphor was especially apt with the girl who planted herself in the lobby, just like yesterday. Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer.

Yep, just as Hajime remembered. Gaming away. Oblivious to the world around her. Calm, soft, and quiet. Very purple.

 _Very_ thick.

Unreasonably so.

She was talking with perhaps the most unlikely of conversational partners.

Byakuya Togami. The Ultimate Affluent Progeny. One of two Byakuyas on the island, because of reasons. The one assigned to Class 2, who was prodigiously large and fat. His attitude, and body, were equally matched and overwhelming to normal people. His ‘conversation’ with Chiaki was more like him talking at her. She played Nintendo, and occasionally gave a terse reply.

“If I present my proposal in such a manner, then the common folk will have no choice but to vote for me.”

“... Yep.”

“Then, you will support my platform, as well?”

“... Sure.”

“Thank you, Chiaki. You know, you may be… slower to arrive at a destination than some others. However, I have never yet once become annoyed by you. That may be a new world record. It certainly sticks out amongst this lot. Ah, speak of the devil.”

Nagito waved. “Morning, Byakuya. Still going to bring up your voting idea in the meeting today?”

Byakuya adjusted his glasses and cast a sideways glance full of condescension. “Of course. There’s no way that I’ll accept commoners who get out of their place, and put themselves in arbitrary positions of power.”

“But it’s okay for you to just declare yourself the leader?” Hajime ventured, laughing nervously.

“I am Byakuya Togami. The real one. For me, there is nothing that can be called impossible. And once I become the Captain of this motley crew, I will expose that thin, impoverished imposter to the light of day.”

Ibuki breathed hard from Hajime’s left side. _“Ibuki approves of his spirit, a lot. Take notes, boys."_

“I’ll see you all on the second floor. Chiaki! Make sure not to become too distracted. Come to breakfast, and eat properly. That is your leader’s order.” Few things were as crucial to Twogami as that subject, so it was little wonder he took care on it. Hajime did remember he gave speeches about keeping them all safe, too. In the margin time between mad, impossible events yesterday.

“Yep,” Chiaki eventually said. Twogami took his leave.

At least he had a decent motive. From what Makoto said about Class 1’s version, it was like somebody kept all the arrogance in tact, but removed that desire to help others completely in favor of more space to fit ‘rich bastard’ tokens in.

“Good morning, Chiaki,” Hajime said.

“...”

Ibuki tried it, because her voice seemed accustomed to screaming. _“_ GOOD NOM-NOM-NOMING!”

Hajime looked askance at her. “ _What_?”

“I mean, it’s breakfast time, and Ibuki’s hungry-mungry, so Ibuki’s just kinda free-styling it now. Ehe.” She poked her fingers together.

“Good morning,” Chiaki said, without peeling her eyes away from the screen for one second.

Hajime wished he could have anything that resembled a conversation with Chiaki, but she was just too absorbed in things that weren’t real. He wasn’t about to judge anybody for their hobbies. But being wrapped up in fiction, even digital fiction, to the point that she barely interfaced with reality at all? He wished he knew the words to say to the adorkable gamer girl.

He wanted to get to know her, but felt some kind of wall between them, an awkwardness.

At least she fell in behind Hajime’s party as they went up the stairs.

The gang was mostly there, plus one tall, elegant surprise in a fancy, frilly uniform.

“Oh. Kirumi?” Hajime was surprised to see the Ultimate Maid, Kirumi Tojo, sitting with them, instead of with her own class 53.

“Good morning, Hajime.” She rose, and bowed politely. Hajime felt the urge to return the gesture. He glanced over at Sonia, who was busy trying to help lay out dishes from the kitchen, only for Kazuichi to insist that she sit down and let him do all the work. “I trust you are well?”

“Yeah, I’m fantastic,” Hajime replied. “As usual.” What would be more sad? That dour, sarcastic lie? Or the fact that this really _was_ shaping up to be his usual?

“I do not wish to keep you all from your breakfast. Teruteru has done splendid work, as usual. However, I wished to inquire about your laundry and trash arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” Nagito echoed.

“Oh my, it’s worse than I thought. Very well. If you wish, I shall handle these things for your class, as well as the other two.”

“Wait,” Hajime said. “You’ve been going around, offering to take care of the trash? For everyone?”

“That is correct, sir. If we are all going to come together to form something like a society, then we must have basic services. It is said that society is merely three days away from anarchy. Even though it is just day two, I figured I could get ahead of the curve, so to speak.” She smiled, calm and elegant, while she explained her way of thinking that seemed quite alien to a lot of people her age.

“Ibuki digs dutiful, beautiful girls, too!” Ibuki proclaimed, without a care in the world that Kirumi could hear her. “ _Wahoo!_ Oh man, Ibuki’s found so many great husbando and waifu potentials, literally where does Ibuki start?”

“Where does the trash even go?” Hajime said, backing up a mental step to avoid thinking about the implications of Kirumi’s Ultimate Maid service, and how devoted she seemed to the concept, even in this exceptional circumstances.

 _“Here, obviously,”_ Hiyoko replied, snickering to herself at her towering wit as she built a plate that may actually have been taller than she was.

“Thank you for your valuable insight, Hiyoko,” Nagito said, a smile frozen on his face.

“Fuck you, cocksucker!”

“We got an incinerator out back of the restaurant!” Kazuichi explained in passing. “Whoa!” The distraction caused him to lose his balance, while over-laden with large plates and dishes. Which all went to the floor, shattering and scattering over it in a huge, spectacular mess.

Somehow, and Hajime would be puzzling over this for literal weeks after it happened, this caused a chain-reaction effect that ended up with Mikan sprawled on the floor again, this time covered in milk.

Lewd.

Kirumi reacted as if somebody lit the Maid Signal, dashing instantly towards the kitchen to gather cleaning supplies. Teruteru looked like he nearly got run over, but once he considered that experience a new type of Play, he seemed more than okay with it, and actively planted himself in Kirumi's path to narrowly avoid. Hiyoko reacted as if this was the funniest situation ever, and made sure to dump on Kazuichi for being such a stupidly stupid stupid person.

“Um, Kazuichi? You should not have to shoulder such a burden all by yourself. Please, I am more than capable enough to help-” Sonia’s reply was cut short, as Kazuichi raised a hand to stop her, even though he was still kneeling in despair over the broken dishes and lost food.

“Please, Miss Sonia! You’re the Ultimate Princess. I couldn’t stand to see you dirty your hands with this kind of grunt-work. Not while I’m here!”

Sonia pouted at this display of what some might call excessive gallantry.

Gundham had his own way to express a similar thought. “Foolish mortal.”

“... Huh?” The half-shark mechanic looked up, raising his shock of purple hair as he looked over at the Ultimate Animal Breeder.

“I have walked many years across this war-scarred Earth after your God forsake it. In my lifetimes, I have encountered countless human queens. Some were meek, meager mouses. But others were as greater lions than you could ever be! This imperious girl is not so fragile as that fine china, you cosmic speck! Ahahahaha!”

“What are you even talkin’ about?! … No, seriously, I can’t ever tell what the fuck you’re saying. But if you don’t start talkin’ to Miss Sonia with the proper respect…”

“Ah, you are far too kind, good sir. I merely wish to help out my classmates in any way which I might be able,” Sonia replied, bowing. Kazuichi gawked helplessly. No, Hajime had been wrong. His earlier concern for the food he destroyed wasn’t true despair.

The look he was giving now, though, couldn’t have been anything but.

Even Teruteru didn’t look quite so despondent when he returned from yet another trip to the kitchen, and saw what had happened.

Louder in his displeasure, definitely.

_“Mon dieu!”_

 

* * *

 

 

 **K** aede Akamatsu didn’t want to get out of such a comfortable bed. She spent a bit of time fluffing about in her blankets before actually rising up. By the time she replaced the pink swimsuit with actual clothes, which were no less pink, and got a quick shower in the process, the morning was well underway.

As Usami helpfully announced on the little TV screen on the wall.

_“Good morning, everybody! I hope you’re well-rested, and ready for the meeting after breakfast! I’ll see you all at the park on Central Island! May shining hope be with you all!”_

That helped drive home for Kaede how close they came to disaster yesterday. But also the ironclad, comforting fact that they’d overcome it. Somehow, in that confusing mess, they came together as a group and faced down that challenge. Usami might be guilty of laying things on a little thick, and avoiding their questions. But she wouldn’t trade her for that psychotic stuffed bear thing in a million years.

A few people on this island, perhaps, thought differently. They might have loved to see Monokuma’s reign go from threat to reality. And for people to start dying.

That thought helped get the Ultimate Pianist out of bed.

Just as she was getting ready to go outside and pulling on her shoes, there was a knock on her cabin door. “Ah, one sec!”

Oh, right. Soundproof walls.

She stumbled over to the door, deciding to execute ‘put on shoes’ and ‘open door’ simultaneously. Thus, doing neither. She took a deep breath, got the brown loafer onto her foot, and then pulled open the door. To reveal a pair of boys. “Oh, Rantaro, Shuichi. Good morning.”

“Hey, sleepybones,” Rantaro Amami, Ultimate ???, said with a wave.

“Good morning,” Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Detective, nodded politely.

Both guys had a laid back attitude, in different ways. Rantaro’s just had some energy behind it. Like he had more to give, but was holding back and being a reserved guy. Shuichi, on the other hand, sounded, and looked, hollow. As if Kaede could knock on him and hear the sound come back.

Well, he was on guard duty, which meant that Kaede got hours of sleep that he didn’t.

“Your co-Captain ordered us to come and make sure you were still breathing,” Rantaro said. “And to invite you to that ‘breakfast’ thing we were planning on having.”

Shuichi got up on his metaphorical hind legs. “Hey, Rantaro, I wouldn’t blame anybody for wanting to sleep in after everything that-”

Rantaro held up his hands to placate the exhausted detective. “Relax, Shuichi. I know, and so does Kaito. He’s just, well. Kaito.”

He sure was. Kaede didn’t know any guys like Kaito from back home, and that was probably a good thing. If nothing else, he sure got everyone pulling in one direction. Whether or not they did so while rolling their eyes or grumbling about it. They still did it. That sense of magnetism was important for getting everyone together, and making sure nobody thought about, well, needless things.

Like the things that might have kept Kaede from getting to sleep in a timely manner.

What a musical hypocrite she was. Kaede lectured Shuichi about it, but then did the exact same sin herself, gazing at that navel. Well, what she could see of it, past all the Kaede in the way...

Sheesh. If she had all that time to worry, why didn’t she change out of her swimsuit last night? She had to get it together. Somehow, everyone looked at her like she was a leader, too. While she certainly wasn’t going to reject the idea, it was… weird. Even these two boys looked at her in certain ways that were just different from normal. Rantaro especially didn’t have that personal association she felt with Shuichi yet.

Although she had to admit, she wanted to know more about the boy with messy hair, a uniquely patterned striped shirt, and a close familiarity with his feminine side. His deep voice, the serious manner he said things in, whether or not he was joking, the way he was thinking about things. His focus on the mysteries of this island, the drive had to find out what happened. That dash of sinister bad-boy vibe he gave off when he said he wasn’t a suspicious guy, thereby upping net suspicion levels.

Kaede couldn’t be anything but honest to her own feelings. The sexy rating was off the charts. She wouldn’t mind getting to know him.

Of course, Shuichi came before flirting. “Shuichi, how are you doing? Did you get enough sleep?” If Kaede was kept up worrying, come to think of it… “You didn’t start thinking again, did you?”

“Don’t worry, I saved the brooding over mysteries for when it was my turn to be the guard first,” Shuichi replied, messing with his hat. Was that a tic to reveal when he was lying, or just a reflection of his shyness? “I slept okay after my shift ended and I woke Tenko up to pass the torch. She was, uh. Not amused.”

Rantaro had a hearty laugh at that. “I’d imagine not. Glad you’re still alive, Shuichi. I wouldn’t want to have to investigate your murder, since we’d lose our only detective.”

“Ha ha,” Shuichi replied, sourly. “I think you’d figure it out if I died by being kicked to death. Especially if it was in one blow, like those old martial arts movies.” Kaede couldn’t help a giggle as they walked along, past rows of cabins together. “I even tried to ask Tenko what her problem was with ‘menaces’. She laid out her mattress on the floor, and then judo-flipped me onto it!”

Both of the others stared at the Ultimate Detective. Kaede was the first to speak. “Seriously? She assaulted you?!”

“Yep. Afterwards, she apologized. And said that she might tell me about it later.”

“The tsundere archetype, huh? Rough times.” Rantaro rubbed the back of his head. “If getting more Hope Fragments from Tenko is going to involve getting beaten up, we might have a problem.”

“Darn right we have a problem!” Kaede said, folding her arms in frustration. “And you can bet I’m going to bring this up at the meeting. If that Tenko thinks she can do whatever she wants…”

“Easy now,” Rantaro said, arms up again. “Shuichi made it, see? Right as rain.”

“I mean, she did apologize,” Shuichi said, looking down at his own feet as he walked. Kaede noticed that the three of them were going pretty slow, so they could stretch out the time they had to talk like this before they got to the hotel lobby, and then up to the restaurant where everyone was gathering. “I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“Shuichi, I’m glad you’re not the type to hold a grudge. But you shouldn’t just brush off these things! When you’re hurt, you need to get help! And when somebody hurts you, that’s not okay. Even if they feel sorry about it afterwards. We’ve got to address this problem at the source. And for that matter, there’s a few other people, like that Hiyoko kid, going around and being jerks for the sake of it.”

…

“Kokichi,” all four of them said, simultaneously, nodding to each other sagely.

…?

Kaede, Rantaro, and Shuichi all jumped to various levels, based on their personality and level of fatigue. Kaede flinched, Shuichi stared in surprise, and Rantaro blinked once. There, in fact, was Kokichi Ouma, in the flesh. With the sort of grin a flesh-eating alien monster might have. If he wore the face of a cute boy.

“Morning, Kaede~” Kokichi said, arms up above his head casually. “Glad to see you’re already making plans to crack the whip and tighten up your control. Man, that really didn’t take long at all, huh?”

“Kokichi, what are you-” Shuichi started to say, but Kaede held up an arm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kokichi. As per usual.”

“I just think that if you want to be a fascist and tell everyone what to do, you should start small. You know, boil the frog, all that. Take it from the leader of a real, bona fide evil organization.”

Kaede glared at him. “Yeah, and I’m Benito Mussolini.”

Kokichi laughed uproariously. “Oh wow, you stayed up in history class, too? Impressive. I’d love to discuss our mutual love of history sometime. Maybe hanging out with you won’t be so bad.” He paused for exactly the length of time known in comedy circles as a beat. “That’s a lie, of course. Who would want to be your friend?”

“What’s up, Kokichi? More news from Dear Leader?” Rantaro asked, unfazed by the clown midget’s ever-so-funny antics. But apparently, getting infected by the talk of dictators.

“Ah, not really. I’m literally bothering you all for no reason.” He rubbed the back of his head, in an imitation of Kaito’s habit. “Well, that Ultimate Photographer lady is ready to take our class photo before we sit down to breakfast. So Kaito wants everyone wrangled up for that, so we can eat already. But that sounds dumb. So I’m gonna skip out. Cameras steal your soul, after all.”

“You should have no problem, then,” Kaede shot back. Kokichi recoiled as if struck, over-selling her insult to take the wind out of it.

Rantaro smiled. “Mahiru, huh? She mentioned something about wanting to take everyone’s photos before we split up later. I think that sounds cool.”

“I don’t know how you stand to hang out with that girl. She’s all barbs and jabbing and poking at other people,” Kokichi said.

“Are you serious right now?!” Kaede huffed.

“At least when she jabs you, she’s doing it to try and encourage you to be a better person,” Rantaro said, with a shrug.

“Exactly! Disgusting. Oh, dang it. My window of escape has officially closed.” He pointed towards the front gates, where Kirumi was just returning, with a duffel bag over each shoulder. “Even if I ran for it, she’d just go after me again. All because of that meanie Kaito’s ‘Request’. I didn’t know we had _two_ merciless, soulless, inhuman Ultimate Robots!”

“Good morning, Kokichi,” Kiibo said, in a hollow, distant, hopeless voice, as he edged past the group, going directly from his own cabin to the restaurant. Kirumi dropped her bags to perform a respectful curtsey to everyone, and then joined them moving across the poolside area towards the lobby.

“You work so hard, Kirumi,” Kokichi observed, as they all made their way towards the restaurant for breakfast. “It’s a good tactic to distract everyone from the fact that you’re one of Monokuma’s traitors.”

“Kirumi, if I Requested that you literally put a sock in it...” Kaede said to the Ultimate Maid, who glanced inside the laundry bags she had.

“I am in fact equipped to fulfill such a Request, Mistress Akamatsu.”

“I get it! Wow! That’s actually fucking disgusting! _Kaito! The girls are bullying me again!”_

 _“Good!”_ Kaito shouted down the staircase from the second floor. _“Keep it up, ladies. Kaede, good to see you. Come on up, we’re the big shots here. The heroes should always be center stage, right in the middle of the photo!”_

Kaede rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

She had to admit, taking a class photo brought back high school memories. Not unpleasant ones, but just a feeling of youth. It was the sort of oddly normal thing that she didn’t expect to be doing on Gopher Island. Yet, the simple act of standing together in a group, smiling in awkward, forced, and fake manners, waiting for the flash, made Kaede feel like this whole thing was… legit. Real.

This was the start of her education at Hope’s Peak Academy, as strange as it had been.

Mahiru sighted in on her targets. Sixteen more-or-less willing subjects. “Everyone, say cheese!”

“Cheese!”

The camera flashed a few times in quick succession, and Kaede blinked to clear her eyes. By the time she had them open again, the freckled redhead was holding up the first photo for everyone to see. It was, well. A group photo of everyone being forced to stand together, when they wanted to be eating the beautiful spread Kirumi set out for them on the long table. It was about as expected.

It was even, Kaede might dare to say, normal.

As normal as the Ultimates ever got.

“I think it’ll be neat to take photos at the beginning here of our time on Gopher Island, and then at the end, whenever we leave to go to HPA,” Mahiru explained. She offered the photos of the other two classes, 1 and 2 respectively. They looked just like the Ultimates of 53. Unbalanced, wacky personalities, standing in a line, pretending to smile. The three lines of college kids lined up together made a long line of astounding talent.

People talked up HPA a lot, but seriously, Kaede was starting to realize that the people assembled on this island were like the future of everything. In a way.

Mahiru soaked in the praise for her work, even while qualifying it by saying that she did much better artistic shots, whereas this was done just for efficiency and time. The primary concern had just been getting everyone into the shot, and making sure no faces were covered up, or nobody was doing a rude gesture.

The Ultimate Photographer smiled. “Of course, I’d love to take more. Whenever we, I dunno. Do stuff together? Whatever Usami has in mind for our activities and courses. That cool with you two?”

Kaito rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t see why not. Kaede?”

Kaede nodded, raising her fists. “Sounds great, Mahiru! Thanks for taking time out from your own breakfast for this.”

Mahiru grinned like a fox, and leaned in close for a conspiratorial whisper. _“Plus, if you and Shuichi want me to take some couples photos, just let me know anytime, oh Captain.”_

“ _So_ they must _really_ miss you at class 2’s table! _Ahahahaha_!” Kaede turned red, and a fluffy panic ensued where the Ultimate Photographer was politely, but firmly, escorted out of the compound. Before the Ultimate Pianist finally sat down at the head of the table, beside Kaito, who had arranged everyone’s chairs just so the leaders could look down the left and right side and see their whole class.

Hm. Yeah, all things considered.

Not bad.

Not bad at all.

**-**

**ACT 1: Trapped by the Ocean Scent**

-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is your inner voice telling you? What does the outside world want?! Do they really want Danganronpa to end, after all this time- Ahem. Audience survey time! I should have asked this after the first act concluded, but I forgot to, so hey. I want to know what you would personally prefer, as well as what you think is best for the story, in terms of how it’s structured and organized.
> 
> Specifically, whether I should put vignettes about relationships and also the, uh, ways they very naturally evolve on a beautiful island paradise with attractive people, in their own ‘story’, like an add-on or expansion pack to this one, or just in this story proper. I always intended to crank up the age rating eventually and feature these things, that was one of the project goals since day one. Those tags have been there since the start. But this project is going in a direction I didn’t fully anticipate. 
> 
> Would it be better to keep the ‘main plotline’ at a Rated T for Teen level, as it is, with mentions of Various Things but nothing explicitly shown? And thus have all the side-stuff in its own thing? Would that better serve this story, as well as the side-content, by keeping their tones and ratings separate? It could allow people who only want one of those things, but not the other, to not have to go through stuff that they’re not interested in. 
> 
> Or does that not matter as much as the potential for people to miss the side-content, or just that it’s much more convenient for the main story to hold everything like all the vignettes I want to write? Is this a concern I’ve just made up in my own head? Should I just crank the rating on this when it’s time and accept the literal novel-length buildup to these things? I mean, it would hardly be the first story to feature that kind of pacing.
> 
> I don’t personally have much trouble with the tone shifting from serious to lewd and then back again, however, that’s part of the problem here. I know that’s a big, big thing for a lot of people. I don’t just mean some folks not wanting to see NSFW content at all, because I’ll clearly label that and it’s peoples’ own responsibility to read the labels and tags. But that a lot of people feel that a thing should either be A, or B, and mixing them accomplishes nothing for either.
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you have any input I’ll consider it for how I should set this thing up. Oh, and also, once I finish Voyage’s main, ‘Usami won’ plotline, would there be interest in me going back to the end of the prologue, having the ‘Monokuma won’ perspective, and proceed with the Killing Game of All Mankind as he planned?


	12. 1-2. The Beautiful Dead (Kaede)

Gopher Park on Central Island was one of two places where the forty-eight Ultimates could gather comfortably.

The other, Tranquility Beach, still looked like a war had been fought across it in the bright sunlight of day.

Nobody was up for going back there. Usami said clearing the wreckage would take days, especially since the Exisals were mostly busy on ‘other assignments’ through the night.

Because that wasn’t ominous at all, Kaede thought with a huff. Soon enough, they’d have answers from the stuffed rabbit that claimed to be their Professor, about everything.

Central Island it was.

At least Usami was thoughtful enough to provide some furniture, even if it was just a collection of folding chairs with a table up front.

A few people were still eating, like this was a picnic. Kaede admired their spirit.

The weather overhead was back to being calm and clear, and by now, the sun had warmed everything up to a comfortable temperature. Normally, after everyone had eaten and things got warm, many of the crew might be at risk of dozing off.

Today was special, though. Everyone was there. And nobody was sleepy. Well, a few people, like the guards they’d had to put out throughout the night.

Or a silly girl who worried too much for her own good.

Everyone was staring at Kaede Akamatsu and Kaito Momota, their self-appointed leadership. Sitting at the table, looking out on them, shuffling papers around just so they’d look busy.

It was awkies.

Kaede took another drink of Kirumi’s thoughtfully-provided water bottle. Even if it was freely available from the Rocketpunch Market, it was such a nice touch.

Things got a little weird when the Ultimate Maid offered to write whole speeches for them, but her heart was in the right place.

“What’s on the agenda today?” Kaito asked quietly, leaning over towards Kaede. Conferencing with her, as well as Usami, who was sitting upon the table. If Kaede felt nervous about the eyes on her, then the rabbit was visibly quivering like a leaf in the wind. None of that resolution from the battle with Monokuma was evident.

Kaede counted off on her fingers. “Traitors, Monokuma, Hope Fragments, Code of Conduct. Oh, and Togami’s proposal. Not necessarily in that order, although that is probably a good way to go.”

“W-We should indeed address these super silly fears first,” Usami agreed. “Nobody needs to worry about friends turning on each other on Gopher Island. Love, love...”

“Sure, sure.” Kaede said. She felt compelled to pet Usami, which seemed to help a bit. “Kaito. If you want to lead, I’ll back you up.”

Translation: Kaito, you’re better at yelling at people. Please don’t make me do this.

The Ultimate Astronaut could be denser than the neutron stars he loved to go on about. Now wasn’t such a time, though. He cleared his throat loudly and leaned into an Usami-provided, very pink, microphone stand on the desk.

_“Alright! I’m calling this excuse for a meeting to order. Thanks for coming, everybody.”_

“Everyone came because Usami ordered us to! Not because of you, Mister Plum!” Hiyoko shouted from the back of the crowd.

“We’re here because we don’t have any choice!” Kokichi agreed, seated closer to the front so that he had a good view of the unfolding circus. “So get on with it, space nerd!”

_“Nnnigh. This shit already… Always messin’ around...”_

Kaede tried to calm Kaito down. She really tried, guys.

 _“Alright! That’s it! First point on the agenda, the crew’s all new Code of Conduct!”_ Kaito produced his Hope Pad and tabbed over to the rules. _“Which, as you’ll note, Usami has helpfully agreed to append to the end of the school trip regulations. You’ll also note nothing about any dumbass ‘killing game’ in the rules, because every single word that bear said was fiction. Obviously.”_

Every time anybody made a comment directed at the table, regardless of how softly they did it or how far away they were, Kaede’s ears picked it up without flaw.

Piano Freak, always ready to stop crime with the amazing power of being able to hear things.

“Don’t underestimate the power of fiction,” Tsumugi mused from the back row, sitting among the cool kids she was totally unlike, tapping her chin. “People can go crazy when they mistake fiction for the real world.” She cast another cold look over at Hifumi, who was seated three chairs away from Celeste in an otherwise empty section. And then, just to emphasize her point, over at Miss Fukawa, who was doing her best to move her own chair as far as possible without getting caught and told to become back.

Junko was beside Tsumugi, a much better fit for the ‘too cool for school’ clique, and languishing by resting against Mukuro, who held her steady without so much as blinking at being so close to a worldwide celebrity. To her, she was probably just ‘Junko’, huh. Well, Junko stared at Tsumugi in disbelief.

For once, Kaede felt like she knew exactly what the Ultimate Fashionista was really thinking.

“Even the part about how there’s two traitors hidden among us?” Angie asked from the front row, squishing her cheeks together in what appeared to be concern. Kaede couldn’t tell if it was genuine, because somebody who smiled all the time wore the best mask. “That was just fiction, too? Angie has her own concerns, but is there proof that we’re safe?”

“There’s _no_ proof we won’t get attacked any moment now.” Kokichi leaned over against Miu, much to the pink-haired girl’s annoyance. Poor girl had to know what she was in for, sitting next to Kokichi. What he said got her mind racing. Not in the way she might have liked.

“The traitors are just sizing us up. Quietly watching. Surveying us, waiting for the perfect chance, Miu…”

“Hieeee! God damnit! Let us off this island, you fucking shit-filled stuffed rabbit!” Miu wailed, grabbing her head and rocking back and forth. “I can’t die here, or the world is fucked! I can’t die here… No matter what...”

Kaito rolled right over the chatter like a grade school teacher trying to corral an unruly room. _“So far, this Code of Conduct has only one item on it. Allow me: Ahem. **‘Rule one. Don’t be an asshole’.** ”_

Kaede let out a gentle sigh as she watched everyone’s reactions. Everyone reacted about how she expected.

The quick-witted got it quickly, kind people thought it was a self-evident rule, loners and outcasts looked upon this with mistrust, and the assholes of the party strongly dissented.

_“... Okay, it doesn’t quite say that! Because Usami implemented some fucking profanity filter. So don’t be a ‘butthole’, either!”_

It seriously said that?

Kaede checked her own Hope Pad and shook her head.

“Angie, for one, thinks this is a splendid plan,” Angie announced, clapping her hands above her head in a devout pose. She was the only girl in the crew for which ‘swimsuit’ wasn’t ‘a thing you put on to go to the beach and have fun’, but ‘clothes’. The contrast of her fluffy, pure white hair, rich dark skin, and bright yellow jacket ensured that in any weather, at any time of day, in any place, she’d stick out and be noticeable.

“Atua told me that we should all get along, and nurture friendship on this beautiful island.”

Kokichi was uncharacteristically expressive. Well, that wasn’t quite right. He often expressed himself quite loudly and forcefully, like kids do. However, this didn’t look as much like an exaggerated show, as just him looking… with contempt. “God gave me a message, too. He said that I should rule this pitiful world. But we don’t always get what we want right away! For instance, my darling Kaito, how are you planning to enforce such a fucking stupid rule?”

 _“Funny you should ask, of all people.”_ Kaito pointed at him, and then made a fist, and hit his other hand right into the microphone, carrying the dull slapping noise through whatever speakers were around the park. _“I was thinkin’ of using my fists to set you straight.”_

Kokichi took a moment to process. Then, his sneer melted. He laughed. Loud, and for an extended period of time while everyone stared.

“Oh! That’s r-r-right! I nearly forgot y-y-you’re _that_ stupid! Nishishi!”

Togami could no longer contain his irritation. Kaede got the vibe he didn’t even try. “The midget isn’t wrong. How exactly do you expect to even codify such an absurd ‘rule’, much less enforce it?” Kaede noticed that the thin, in-shape edition of Byakuya Togami had taken to wearing black, contrasting with his double’s white outfit, which was at least a bit of contrast.

As if nobody could tell those two apart without it, though!

“A critical point,” Kiyo cut in, fiddling with his watch, and peering fondly at whatever was in it. Kaede was getting curious enough to ask him about that someday. “Rules are the vital lifeblood of society. But they must be clearly understandable, and clearly understood. And, at least in the case of our own Japanese society, as with most modern systems, they must also be approved by the people.” He looked up, peering out of that ominous mask right at Kaito. “This rule fails on all three criteria.”

_“No, that’s wrong!”_

Kaede coughed and raised her hand, turning red. She had her own microphone, and Kaede judged it, as a musician, to be very high-quality. Given what she heard back from the booming speakers of her own voice. If only she had an actual piano.

Her fingers would continue to itch until that day.

_“Um. What I really mean is, uh. Let me cut in. While it’s not a specific rule, that’s because we don’t want to, like, impose controls and stuff. We just think that if we’re really going to be expected to live on this island together, we’ve got to set some basic boundaries.”_

“Tenko thinks that we will need much stricter rules to control the _degenerate male_ population! With their need to cross… _various boundaries_ and break… _various things_. Nngh.”

The most impressive thing in that moment was that the Ultimate Aikido Master found a way to keep that absurdly short blue skirt from riding up while sitting. Well, and when Tenko crossed and uncrossed her legs, and tensed them up, it was an astounding, and highly distracting, display. Not that Kaede would just openly check out another girl’s fantastic, S-tier legs and thighs, just because they were there and brazen, when she had serious business to attend to.

Kaede’s genuine frustration bubbling up to the surface helped. Just like Kaito, she was swept along in it rather than trying to keep the meeting on-track. _“Tenko, I’m glad you spoke up right now.”_

Hiyoko chuckled to herself darkly. “I guarantee she’s never heard that before.”

_“And you as well, Hiyoko! You two, and Kokichi, are the big reasons that Kaito and I agreed this rule should be put into place. Everyone’s still trying to figure out this weird situation. Having your own opinions on people, or not wanting to talk, or whatever, is all fine. But you three all go out of your way to dump on others, often completely unprovoked. That’s what we’re talking about.”_

“I totally don’t go out of my way to attack other people, you fat fucking pig!” Hiyoko objected, eyes glowing that eerie honey-gold as she locked on to a target, and got a terrifying grimace. “It comes naturally. And in case you, like, forgot, I’m free to say whatever I feel like.”

“P-Please do not lump Tenko in with such… such unpleasant types as these two!” Tenko objected in a huff.

“One of us… one of us…” Kokichi chanted merrily.

“We’ll never _become one_! In spite of your degenerate, base _male_ desires!”

 _“No, you know what? You’re not like those two,”_ Kaede admitted, rubbing her forehead to try and get some of the stress out. It wasn’t working.

“Ah! Thank you, Miss Akamatsu, I knew that if a _girl_ -”

 _“You’re acting_ worse _! Hiyoko and Kokichi may spit acid and terrible jokes at people, respectively, like it’s going out of style. But you assaulted Shuichi last night! You, one of the people who agreed to pull guard duty.”_

That turned heads. Many of the Ultimates now stared at the Ultimate Aikido Master. Given the current climate, even a hint of such suspicion could prove very dangerous. She was on her feet and on the defensive, taking a stance like she expected somebody to leap at her. “... Oh, this is about what happened with Shuichi.”

Shuichi raised his hand. “Guys, it really wasn’t that big of a deal-”

He was promptly rolled over, too. _“And your attitude in general!”_ Kaede said, shaking her head. _“I’m not going to ask what your beef is with men…”_

“Nice phrasing,” Nagito murmured.

 _“But honestly, I don’t much care! I’ll go one better! We’re all strangers here! Nobody probably cares all that much! They’re just tired of hearing you yell about how half of our classmates are devils and menaces and all that.”_ Kaede took a single deep breath. _“So, apologize to Shuichi-”_

To Kaede’s astonishment, her demand was effective.

Tenko approached Shuichi. Who quite naturally flinched in fear, and tried to hide himself behind his comrades. The Wimp Brigade, Mikan and Chihiro. Who were, themselves, in a panic. However, Tenko wasn’t there to attack. She dropped down into a formal, respectful bow, instead.

A tight dogeza, folding herself in half and pressing her face to the flagstones of the park.

“Ahem. While Tenko does, in fact, have reasons to suspect the awful men here. Shuichi, you are not, uh, a degenerate. Tenko would like to apologize for flipping you.”

Shuichi looked rather put on the spot. Regardless of whatever he might have actually felt, he had little choice but to reply, “It’s okay, Tenko. Really. This doesn’t accomplish anything.” He sighed. “It certainly isn’t going to make you reconsider your beliefs if someone gives you a lecture.”

Tenko glared daggers at him, as if admitting these sorts of things were worse than having teeth pulled. “You misunderstand! Tenko isn’t just apologizing because Kaede told her to! You were… _misjudged_ , male. That rarely happens to Tenko. But her ability always allows Tenko to tell the true heart of her opponent in battle. So you really aren’t, in fact, planning to molest Kaede.”

Phew. Kaede could freaking breathe easy now that she knew that.

“Seriously? That’s a thing?” Mondo asked in obvious disbelief. “Sounds like some kinda shit from a movie. Martial arts power, and like, _your fighting heart_ and shit.”

“What, like a biker gang leader with a hairdo that looks like a corn-cob?” Kokichi asked, sporting his standard massive grin. It was only a fraction of the face he made when he thought he was king of the world, but even a fraction of Kokichi was nearly intolerable.

As was quickly demonstrated, when he was exposed to somebody with no tolerance.

“... The fuck.”

“Hm?”

_“The fuck you just say about my hair, punk?!”_

Oh boy.

Kokichi was most of the way to getting a grade-A knuckle sandwich when Usami intervened, flying forward and physically separating them. Or, rather, nearly getting kicked aside by Mondo. However, she had the Magic Stick, and even the recklessly aggressive delinquent boy knew what that meant.

He’d seen what it could do yesterday night, alongside the rest of the Ultimates. That swirling pink energy gathering around Usami was not for show.

“ _ **No fighting!**_ It’s clear in the rules that ‘extreme violence’ is prohibited! Sparring may be okay, but you can’t hurt others just because you don’t like their words!” Usami pointed her Magic Stick at Kaito accusingly. “W-W-Which goes for you too as well, Mister Momota! You need to set an example for the rest of the class.”

“Oh wow, it’s actually trying to be a teacher,” Mahiru said, ready with her camera to capture the tense moment of the standoff.

Kaede leaned back from her microphone and flipped it to standby, and let out a sigh. Kaito followed suit. “If Usami’s against it, then we really don’t have a way to implement the Code of Conduct. Let’s table it for now, Kaito. We’ve got other issues, and we can’t let the discussion keep getting derailed like this.”

“Tch. If we put it to a vote, it might not even pass anyway, the way everyone is riled up. Fine.”

“Um, I don’t mean to say that you can’t address troublesome elements in the group!” Usami said. “I just don’t think that friends shouldn't fight. Violence isn’t the answer…”

“Violence sure seemed like the optimal answer to the situation yesterday,” Togami interjected, shaking his head. “That bear, Monokuma, didn’t care about a thing anyone had to _say_. But when you blasted it, the crisis was over, correct? Very effective.”

“R-Regardless, violence between students is clearly forbidden in my school environment!”

It was hard to argue with Usami’s straightforward argument. Or the fact that she controlled what happened, and wasn’t allowed to happen, on these islands-

“But that’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Kaede looked over to an edge of the crowd, where a certain dark, brooding avocado-haired boy was studying his Hope Pad. She leaned into her mic. _“What do you mean, Rantaro?”_

“... You heard that? Of course you did.” Rantaro laughed, rubbing the back of his ruffled green hair, as eyes moved in his direction. “I meant to break the news to you first in private, but we may as well get this into the open. Everyone, please check out the rules in your pads.” He paused for a moment, and then scrolled up to the top of the list. “Notice anything strange?”

“All the rules are plainly the sa… wait.” Tsumugi’s grey-blue eyes squinted through her glasses. “Um. Rule one is ‘Please live peaceful and relaxing lives with your fellow students.’”

Kaede read through the few, brief rules in a moment’s time, and found the same thing. She took a moment to ponder what it could mean, although not long enough to run up against any time limits. _“... I’ve got it! Where’s the first part of rule 1?”_

The first clause, the one prohibiting violence, was gone. Not moved somewhere else, not reworded. The rules just didn’t have a single thing to say about violence now.

Kaede was certain that rule was there. She reread those rules a dozen times yesterday to look for any hidden hint, any clue. She practically had the short set of regulations committed to memory. In fact, she had it down in her head so well that when she first scanned it at Rantaro’s behest, she ‘saw’ what she remembered, as her brain took some shorthands.

Ishimaru got up to his feet, and his voice had no problem booming across the small island unaided. “Professor! What is the meaning of this?!”

Usami was baffled. “Um, can somebody show me their Hope Pad?” Nagito, nearby to her, obliged, turning the screen around and angling it down.

Usami spotted the problem immediately, and was frozen. “Hawawa!”

“... You _do_ know what happened to the rules, right?” The fluffy, lanky boy asked, his pale, pretty face betraying his concern.

“If Usami didn’t notice until right just now…” Shuichi shook his head, hand at his mouth in surprise. “No way.”

“Um! Clearly, this is just a bit of a network glitch, everybody,” Usami explained. “So there isn’t any need to worry! Even though Monokuma might have tampered with the rules displayed here before he was destroyed, that doesn’t actually matter. I still wouldn’t permit acts of violence on this island, regardless of what those silly rules might say, or not say.”

“Oh really?” Kokichi tilted his head. “That’s reassuring. Hey, Mondo! Your hair is _awful_!”

Kaede glared. _“Kokichi, what exactly are you-”_

_“Look here, you fucking little sniveling shit!”_

“How many _gallons_ of hair-gel are sacrificed each day just to keep you looking so stupendously extra-dumb-”

The result was inevitable.

Mondo stormed past Usami, knocking her out of the way without the faintest whiff of resistance. He stomped up to Kokichi, balled a fist, and punched him so hard that the purple-haired liar was put flat on his back.

Kaede called out, _“Kokichi!”_

Kaito yelled, _“What the hell?!”_

Someone stood up to intervene.

The gentle giant from class 53, Gonta Gokuhara, was now between Mondo and his target. The suit-wearing behemoth wore a look of determination. His red eyes peered through wide circle-glasses, and he took a strong stance that Kaede recognized from movies and anime.

“Stop this! Gonta won’t let fight happen, even if Usami does!”

“What’s that?!” Mondo cracked his knuckles, and his face went purple. Actually, literally purple. Kaede felt the waves of power rolling off him all the way from the table in front. “You gonna get in my way, Tarzan? I don’t give a fuck, I’ll take you on!”

A cloud of Ultimates formed quickly, putting themselves between Kokichi’s prone form, and the raging Mondo, all standing beside Gonta.

Kaede was hopeful that was the end of the altercation, but Mondo still looked ready to go.

Until finally, Sakura stood up.

Given that she already towered while sitting down, the effect was quite impressive. She looked down a fair distance to meet the eyes of the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader.

“Could you leave it at that, Mondo? This is pointless.”

“Nnngh… you know I won’t hesitate to fight a hundred dudes, if I get hot! But… That’s not playing fair, Sakura! Peko! Tenko! Freaking Kirumi?! Chicks shouldn’t be over here, you know I can’t fight you guys! Er, girls!”

“I do, in fact, know that,” Peko said coldly, as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She didn’t even bother to draw her bokken. She had her hand there, at the ready, though. Even though her black uniform outfit, the athletic tone and power of her body was self-evident. “So go sit down, Oowada.”

Tenko shook her head. She herself, in a blue adapted uniform that looked pretty breezy, was a sight to see. Among that crowd, she might not have looked like much, but Kaede saw abs beneath a slightly-too-small button-up coat-shirt-thing. “While Tenko approves of that respect for girls which is so uncommon in males, Tenko also can’t let this happen.”

“Yeah! If anyone is against unprovoked violence, it’s going to be Tenko.” Kokichi rubbed his cheek, which was developing quite an impressive massive bruise. Given how pale he was, Kaede wasn’t surprised that Kokich was really feeling the effects of that attack. Well, anybody would be, given how big and strong Mondo was.

“For once in your life, just shut up!” Mahiru scolded Kokichi, hands on her hips, in exactly the same way she’d probably spoken to other troublesome little boys. “Oh hey, are you finally feeling some regret after your actions have consequences?”

“If I knew all you had to do to get Kokichi to shut up was punch him, I’d have done that yesterday,” Kaito said, although fortunately, not into the mic.

He _was_ the sort of leader who’d end up leaving the mic on as he called a country a shithole, or some other diplomatic faux pas.

For the first time ever, Kaede saw Kokichi looking taken aback.

He expressed towering arrogance and gloating glee during that thing with the Stick. As Makoto pointed out later, though, that routine had also accidentally saved them. It got the Stick out of Monokuma’s hands, and eventually, the scuffle led to Usami getting it back.

It was a weird thought. Kokichi’s selfish, childish antics may very well have spared them a terrible fate.

If his true nature was more understanding than he let on, what was with the junior-high jackass routine? Why was he picking fights like this for no reason? Why did he look like he was about to legit cry? After getting punched, for provoking a big tough guy on purpose? If he was as smart and above-it-all as he pretended, or as understanding as Kaede might have suspected, why didn’t he see that bullet of obvious karma coming his way?

Was he really just some clown, that accidentally stumbled onto an important moment yesterday?

Mondo agreed to back off, thankfully. Whatever he might say, and however much he might occasionally get carried away, he knew that, unlike that stuffed bear and his battle robots, he didn’t stand much of a chance against the gathered Ultimates.

Even if, as Gonta observed, Usami did nothing at all to step in.

Usami did nothing?

“Usami, you said that you’d stop Mondo. But you didn’t.”

Hajime stood up, even as Mondo and the other fighters settled back into their seats, although there was now a nervous energy, a crackling tension, going through the meeting. Everyone looked over towards the amnesiac, as he walked forward to confront the rabbit directly.

“What gives?” He demanded, pointing right into her face.

Usami, when directly confronted, tended to just sort of fall apart. As with now. In fact, Kaede couldn’t help but take note of her strange behavior ever since the battle. Well, she never acted anywhere approaching normal, and she always felt like she was hiding things, but this was different. She felt like all the wind had been taken out of her sails or something.

“W-Well, I just knew that Mister Oowada wasn’t going to take it too far… perhaps?”

“Really? It looked to me like that punch nearly took Kokichi’s head clean off. How did you know anything beforehand?”

“M-Mister Hajime, that is no way to address your Professor… Hope’s Peak Academy sent me here to watch over you all…”

“We still have nothing but your word that you’re with HPA!” Hajime shook his head. “And every time you do, or don’t do, something, I think more and more ‘what if she’s just lying?’ You’ve got all the power here, we’re at your mercy. But you expect us all to just trust you? Blindly?”

“That’s a little much.” Nagito was at Hajime’s side quickly. Ever the mediator, the voice of reason. “Usami protected us from Monokuma. Come on, Hajime. That’s a fact, we all saw it.”

“What if what was saw was just an act?”

Kaede took a few moments to catch up, but she did better than a lot of others, who just gawked at him. She flicked on her mic. _“An act? What, the whole thing? Hajime, you can’t be serious.”_

“I’m dead serious, Kaede!” Hajime stormed over to the front table, and got a mic for himself, a hand-held one. It was pink and fuzzy. _“Let’s think about everything that’s happened so far. We haven’t seen a single other person. It’s just been huge robots, and little stuffed animals. Why? This place has buildings, but nobody lives here? What the hell is going on that HPA couldn’t send us, you know, a person? A human being?”_

Kiibo bristled. “Excuse me, are you trying to imply that robots aren’t people?!”

Hajime stared at him for a few moments. _“I’m trying to_ imply _that things don’t just happen for no reason. Especially things way outside the norm. All of this. Our memories, the Ultimate Hunt, the killing game, Usami and Monokuma… it all has to connect, somehow. We just need to figure it out!”_

Kaito rubbed the back of his head. _“Now you’re starting to sound like the kind of guys who used to tweet at me that ‘we never landed on the moon’ and all that, Hajime. ‘It all connects’, ‘fight the power’.”_

Hajime didn't back down. _“My reaction isn’t the weird one. Why is everyone so okay with this? We have more questions than answers by a mile. All I’m saying is that we need those answers now. If anything, the battle with Monokuma has shown that we can’t afford to turn away from this anymore. Or just shrug off Usami’s reluctance to give a straight answer. It’s too suspicious! You know that saying, ‘what you don’t know can’t hurt you’? That’s bullshit! We had no idea Monokuma was coming, or what his plans were. We still only know what we saw firsthand!_

_And nowadays, even seeing what we think is a real event might not mean anything. All we really saw out there was robots blowing each other up. It’s worth noting that we got really lucky during the battle. Unbelievably so. Ultimates going, in some cases, toe-to-toe with huge robots, which have guns and rockets and bombs? While unarmed? And coming out if it without a single major injury, of any kind, to anyone?_

_How could that possibly have happened, unless those robots were holding back?”_

“Very smooth, Hajime,” Twogami remarked dryly, tilting up both of his chins. “You’re asking the rabbit to prove a negative, that it wasn’t plotting and scheming all that.”

“E-E-Exactly! How can I prove a negative?!” Usami demanded, steeling what little strength of character she had against this speech. “Where’s your own proof of these absurd things, huh? Huh?!”

“Your character underwent quite the shift, there,” Tsumugi observed, tapping her chin.

“We should just be grateful, and give thanks to Atua, that we all emerged from the conflict unscathed,” Angie opined from the sidelines with the others. “Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Y-Yeah!” Usami drew at least a little strength from the banter of the Ultimates, although Kaede herself was getting more doubtful by the second. “Let’s just give thanks to Atua and pay to him for guidance, everyone!”

“... You believe in Angie’s god now, too?” Kiyo remarked, astounded. He couldn't help a little laugh. “A suspect, when cornered, and out of earthly friends, may often turn to… the divine for assistance instead. How beautiful, to see the familiar patterns of behavior emerge. Even on this foreign island, among strangers. Even in a robot!”  
  
Hajime wouldn’t relent, even in the face of Wacky Antics. To which he’d already started to grow immune through repeated and sometimes violent exposure. _“You want my proof that you’re hiding things from us, and setting us all up? How about the best proof we’ll ever get? Your own words! You said some very suggestive things on Tranquility Beach, Usami.”_

“Oh ho?~” Teruteru perked up, in various ways.

 _“Don’t you even start right now, motherfucker,”_ Hajime said. He looked liable to be the next person to threaten, or commit, an act of violence on this peaceful island paradise. Just in case, Tenko settled herself in next to the Ultimate Cook.

Within moments, she came to deeply regret that decision.

“Hey, now! Don’t come at me like that, Hajime! Mothers are just about the only thing that’s _out-of-bounds_ for me! I mean, ah gotta have some standards!”

“Isn’t that a reasonably popular fetish, though?” Tsumugi pondered. “At least online, it’s difficult to avoid talk about ‘milfs’ and all that... “

Kaede was just relieved to know that somebody, somewhere, was not in Teruteru’s exceptionally broad crosshairs. It even suggested to her that, in spite of all their differences, everyone here was just doing what they thought was right in their own minds.

Even so, Hajime was threatening to derail the entire meeting hardcore, and maybe even get everyone into hot water with Usami herself. Given yesterday’s events, bothering stuffed animals was probably not what the Ultimates needed to be doing. She glanced to Kaito, who looked back at her and shook his head.

 _“Ibuki!”_ Hajime called out.

“Hajime!” Ibuki replied, imitating his deeper voice. Or doing her best to.

 _“Ibuki here is the Ultimate Musician, as everyone knows.”_ Kaede wasn’t entirely sure about that title, or about punk rock in general. But now wasn’t the time for that. _“You’ve got an audiographic memory, right?”_

“‘I want to die with everyone else’…” Ibuki said, out of nowhere.

“What?!” Kaede reacted.

“Very hardcore, Hajime. Ibuki is still determined to write a song about that! It can go on the planned album ‘I Composed This Album In A Week, It Sucks, And I Hate It, But If It Goes Platinum, I’ll Pretend It’s My Masterpiece’.”

Oh, it was just some musical lyric or something. Thankfully. Whatever reference Ibuki made, and however far it passed over Kaede, Hajime himself seemed impressed by what she recalled.

 _“Alright.”_ He handed off the mic to her. _“Can you tell us what Usami was saying right when Monokuma first showed up? Before any of us knew what was going on?”_

_“Aye aye! Ibuki will expect to be compensated for this later, in the form of ice cream.”_

Some of the Ultimates didn’t hear Hajime’s reply, but Kaede certainly did. “Since it’s free, I’ll definitely be able to keep that promise.”

 _“Awesome! Ibuki got a date, wahoo! Oookay. Here we go.”_ Ibuki got an expression that seemed entirely alien on her heavily-pierced face. She appeared to be thinking. Then, well. Kaede could only describe it like Ibuki was possessed by the spirit of the past. Her voice became more squeaky, and she was suddenly talking like Usami, rattling off exactly what she’d said.

Kaede could confirm that. Her ears weren’t going to lose to anyone. Especially some Lol Random Girl who ate pixie sticks by the truckload, and probably did just as much drugs.

 _“Everyone, stay back! Whatever happens next, we’ll protect you!”_  
_“Oh no… That laugh! But that’s impossible! How is he here?! Of all places!”_  
_“All units, stand by to open fire!”_  
_“Monokuma! I won’t ask why you’re here, because that’s obvious! I just want to know how-”_  
_“W-We’ll see about that, you monster! As long as I told the Magic Stick, I have the power to stop you! In fact, you’d better start telling me what I want to know, o-o-or you’re history! How did you find us? How did you even get here?!”_

Ibuki tossed the microphone back to Hajime, who looked quite confident that he had Usami cornered. Even Kaede herself had the orchestral version of a certain famous lawyer franchise’s ‘cornered’ theme going in her head.

Usami was quivering in fear, and now surrounded by very skeptical looking Ultimates.

The way she phrased things at the beginning of that crisis made things crystal clear. What she said, and how she said it, was impossible to misinterpret. Usami knew things the Ultimates didn’t, and was keeping that information from them, deliberately.

The mood of Usami’s students, which had been trending up towards her, slipped rapidly back down the slope, falling and hitting its head a few times on the way down.

Usami panicked, and had nothing to say but stuttering, giving nothing that resembled a useful defense.

Kaede had to admit, the whole situation was just too odd. Maybe now was the time to dig in their collective heels, and demand the truth-

“Kaede, you’ve got to get him to calm down for now.”

“... Why?” Kaede turned towards Kaito, who wore an expression of unusual thoughtfulness just like Ibuki. Maybe there was something in the water today.

Given Teruteru was preparing a bunch of meals, and with Kirumi’s diligent help, distributing them to each class, that was a distressingly realistic possibility.

Kaede wished she hadn’t remembered that. Perhaps more needed to be added to the now-empty Code of Conduct. Although the entire statute on sexual assault would bloat the e-document unbelievably. And without the internet, nobody was likely able to reproduce it perfectly.

Kaito sighed. “I don’t think either of us would say he’s wrong. I mean, we started the crew because we need to find the truth, and we will. But if we press like this, Usami’s just going to go into siege mode. Y’know, like badgering a witness and all that.”

“Uh, aren’t you the one who’s better at the shouting thing?” Kaede objected. While she wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for herself, or yell back at bothersome people, the idea of confronting a friend directly was a little different.

“Yeah. Shouting. Which won’t help here. Hajime isn’t just fucking around like Hiyoko or Kokichi. You’re probably better at… working with people. You know, being convincing.”

“Oh, wow.” Kaede smirked. “I can’t tell if you’ve had a moment of humility, or you’re just trying to push more work onto others.”

“Get on with it! Before I change my mind, dangit!” Kaito’s goofy faces he made when provoked were simply the best. Even Kazuichi couldn’t quite compare. It was a close run, though.

Kaede stepped up, grabbing a portable microphone from the table as well. It was the one that wasn’t pink, which was bothersome, but she had bigger fish to fry. _“Hajime, hold on! We’re not going to get anywhere doing this right now.”_

Hajime turned in Kaede’s direction, surprised. _“Kaede? What do you mean? We’ve got her cornered! She won’t be able to squirm out of this one.”_

Hiyoko smirked. “Probably got a lot of experience getting women in places where they can’t escape, huh? I guess lonely guys who can’t get a date will resort to alllll sorts of stuff…”

While Kaede had observed Mahiru tolerating this sort of behavior in the blonde dancer girl yesterday, something must have shaken loose. The Ultimate Pianist was encouraged to see Mahiru turn, and fix the smaller girl with a withering glare that shut her mouth. As if to say, ‘now’s not the time’, without needing to even speak.

 _“You’re acting like it’s all over, but I don’t agree at all.”_ Kaede squared her shoulders. _“What we saw with our own two eyes is proof, too! In fact, it’s more solid as evidence than just questioning everything. Implying that maybe that whole elaborate battle was a stage performance? That’s an extraordinary claim to make!”_

“And extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,” Kiyo nodded in approval. Somehow, having such a rational, calm dude side with Kaede helped a lot in shoring up both her own confidence, and how others saw her. “After all, the simplest answer to why the Monosals were not shooting to kill last night is that Monokuma wished to preserve us for his mad ‘killing game’ schemes. As he himself said.”

The invisible line between Kaede and Hajime shifted to press him in a bit, and the spiky-haired brunette recoiled. “ _Well, okay, I agree. It sounds like a weird thing to even suggest. But my point is what we just don’t know anything for sure yet. We should verify what Usami’s saying, and make her give us some real evidence. Or we refuse to go along with any more of her schemes._

_If she doesn’t have anything to hide, why can’t she just answer us?!”_

Kaede felt the pressure now. The Ultimates were watching this confrontation. Kaede knew that some minds were already made up. Some of the Ultimates were going to back Kaede, and support Usami. Some were going to back Hajime, and doubt Usami. No matter what happened. However, she had to believe that others were trying to figure it out.

She had to be careful of the greater danger, too. If she got into an us-or-them attitude so quickly, all she’d end up doing was driving a wedge between herself, and Hajime. And the people who thought like him. She could certainly see the doubt in many people's eyes, even if they had, somehow, bafflingly, accepted her as a leader.

Hajime was her friend, too. Just like Shuichi, Nagito, Makoto, Sayaka, Kaito… she hoped, in time, to become real friends with everyone on this island. The fact that they were currently, as Kaede had said earlier, strangers, didn’t change that hope.

Regardless of all the looming questions, she wanted to believe in hope, dangit! If they really were here to make friends, nurture hope, and develop their talents, that was a goal that Kaede had to support with all of her heart.

Even if she was shaking on the inside, and sweating bullets.

 _“The traitors. The killing game. The memory situation. How we got here at all. I won’t deny there’s questions. And honestly, I heard all those things that Usami said, too. It’s clear that she’s not keeping it a hundred with us. Not even close.”_ Kaede fixed the quivering Usami with a glare, rather than directing it on her debate ‘opponent’. _“But she may have good reasons for it, and for keeping us in the dark. I know it’s hard to imagine, but that’s because we don’t have the full picture.”_

 _“Usami can’t keep that full picture out of our hands, and then use it as a shield, at the same time,”_ Hajime said. _“If we’re on the wrong track because we’re uninformed, and Usami could inform us, but chooses not to? Then whatever happens next really is her fault! If Monokuma had taken over and forced us into that insane game, it would be all her fault for keeping us like this!”_

Kaede disagreed vehemently. _“But that’s only part of the story! We really don’t know enough to say for sure, regardless of the reason. We don’t even know if Usami is a drone with a real person behind it. That was just a guess. Kiibo proves how amazing robots can be.”_

The white-haired robot boy blushed at that unexpected complement. Kaede didn’t have time to admire how cute that was. Maybe later. Miu did that enough for both girls, and loudly, too.

 _“Maybe the Exisals, and Usami herself, are robots too. With programming, or instructions that they can’t break."_  

If Hajime was just going to speculate wildly, why couldn’t Kaede hit him back the exact same way?

“Whether Usami is an autonomous AI, or a drone operated remotely, doesn’t matter,” Chihiro shook her head. “Er, um. What I really mean is, it boils down to the same issue for this purpose. Who’s the man behind the man? Er, the robot bunny. Who is controlling Usami to do the things she’s doing, in the way they’re being done? A pilot somewhere, or a programmer somewhere? It’s still the same question. Uh, sorry, Kaede. I didn’t really mean to come and take a side…”

Back on the verge of tears. That was okay, Kaede felt similarly.

She succeeded her own ‘save against panic’ roll, just barely. _“E-Even so! Don’t let yourself be blind to possibilities!”_

 _“Blind to possibilities? You mean I’ve overlooked something?”_ Hajime shook his head, looking and sounding pretty confident that the tide turned firmly in his favor. _“Something specific? What is it?”_

 _“Belief!”_ Kaede said decisively, pointing at him.

 _“... So you’re going over to Angie’s religion, too?”_ Hajime asked, provoking a wave of laughs from the crowd.

“Yes~” Angie did an adorable fistpump. “I knew that sleeping on it-”

_“No, that’s wrong!”_

“Aw….”

 _“I mean, I’m not trying to be rude. But Atua will have to do more than just take me out on some weird-ass tropical vacation to win my heart.”_ Kaede followed up. Sensing that perhaps she could overturn the mood of the whole crowd. Indeed, that line, whether or not it was comedy genius, provoked more laughter.

She could feel some of the terrible tension recede.

The thing about getting worked up was that it was temporary. Even if one had good reason to be angry, it was an unpleasant situation. One that stressed and tired people out. People sought to avoid direct conflict. Even most of the exceptional and unbalanced personalities on this island were like that.

Kaede fired off a quick little Atua-bound prayer, just in case. She couldn’t forget to be grateful for help. Even if it was from a silly source, she’d take any tool to prevent the crew from imploding into some kind of internal conflict or witch hunt.

Or make an enemy out of what could potentially be their greatest ally.

_“Seriously, Hajime. I don’t think you’re wrong about any of the points you raise. You’re a skeptical kinda guy. And you weren’t happy sitting around, you always wanted to explore more of this place, and find the truth. So of course you’d confront Usami. But you can’t just decide she’s our enemy, especially if she clearly wants to be our friend.”_

_“Our friend?!”_ Hajime echoed. _“Do friends do this kinda stuff to each other? Wipe memories, hide the truth, and put us in danger? I mean, there’s pranks, and then there’s this whole thing. Would even HPA go this far?”_

“I really do just want to get along with everybody…” Usami sobbed. “Uuu… I’m not just being evasive to be mean, you know. There are some things I can’t tell you. For reasons I can’t tell you. Until a time that I can’t tell you… F-For your own good… Everyone, please believe in me…”

 _“So we’re back to this again! It really is about belief. Usami’s asking for our trust without any cause. So I guess it’s just down to whether you’re cool with that, or not.”_ Hajime shook his head. _“I want this place to be legit too, Kaede. Seriously. It might be weird here, but I’ve met a lot of interesting people in just the past day.”_ Hajime glanced over to Nagito, Chiaki, Ibuki, Mikan, on and on. _“If I could trust that we weren’t about to be betrayed, then I… no, all of us could rest so much easier.”_

Kaede rubbed her forehead. _“I know. I know that you aren’t just doing this to be a jackass, Hajime. Unlike certain members of the tribe.”_

Kokichi was still being silent over there.

He’d returned to his seat, and was watching the ongoing discussion intently. It was a strange, new kind of behavior from him. His purple eyes had a weird gleam to them, too, an intensity usually absent. Maybe Mondo really knocked his block off. In fact, Mikan was hovering near him, repelled by his looming, dark aura he was putting out, but attracted by her need to care for the wounded.

Kaede couldn’t stop to see which would win, though.

She had to find a way to resolve this situation without battle lines being drawn. She clapped her hands together. _“Then. The most straightforward answer is just to ask in a different way. Usami! Can you possibly provide us any kind of proof? Evidence? Anything to set our minds more at ease? To let us know that you’re really on our side like you claim? And you didn’t cause this weird memory loss, and you’re working to restore it?”_

“T-The flashback light yesterday should be plenty of evidence that I only want the best for my students…” Usami replied, rubbing her beady eyes, which were, in an impressive feat of animatronic technology, producing copious real tears. “Or, should have been… if all went to plan…”

 _“I don’t know about that,”_ Hajime said. _“I mean, it knocked several of us on our asses for hours. Out cold. Including me! Let me tell you all firsthand, it was no fun. Can you explain what happened there? Let me guess, you can’t tell me why I got hurt from that light, huh? But I should go and try to kick that football one more time, huh?”_

“I-It’s not complicated. You just reacted differently to the flashback light, as with the others who’ve lost the memory of their talents.” Usami stared at the floor. “I’m really, really very sorry about that, everyone. I believe it’s related to your more advanced memory loss. I might isolate what happened if I can work up another flashback light, and use it to restore the next part of your lost memories.”

“You really do want us to agree to another one of those, after what happened last time?” Hajime shook his head, not bothering to speak into the microphone anymore. “Why would we possibly do that?”

“Why did we agree to the first one, Hajime? Even though we knew it could be fishy going in.” Nagito asked. He took the microphone, and set it to broadcast the whole area rather than having a tight focus, so everyone gathered around could hear everything.

“It _is_ the only reason we know anything about the Ultimate Hunt,” Rantaro confirmed, moving up too. Maki and Kyouko came from the outskirts of the crowd, where they’d been camping, over to stand near Usami and silently complete the quartet. “Well, us four. Everyone else just got a memory of themselves at the real HPA campus on like, the first day of semester. Basic stuff, meet-and-greet.”

“Which was the intended memory recall,” Usami said. “To prove that you’re all truly students of Hope’s Peak, and classmates. I meant that to be a brick of goodwill to build a bridge between us, and prove my good intent. But it backfired…”

What to do next? Kaede was at a loss. She felt like the situation was in danger of slipping back to a confrontation.

When, just as Nagito stepped over to Hajime’s side, somebody joined her, as well.

“Is it true, though?” Shuichi asked, calm, and intent, fixated on Usami.

“Eh? W-What is it, Mister Saihara?”

“Is the memory that these four received, of the Ultimate Hunt, the truth? Or some hallucination? Are we really being hunted, back in Japan?” Shuichi asked. His tone carried no hostility or disbelief, but also no friendly, warm feelings. He was in computer-mode.

“Is that why we’re here on Gopher Island, rather than back at the Academy?” Kaede asked, pitching in. “For our own safety?”

“Uuu… Sometimes, you know, the truth hurts more than any fantasy you could invent…” Usami shook her head. “But if all my students insist… oh, why. Why couldn't you just believe in me, and hope…

As I said before, the flashback lights cannot fabricate memories, or alter them. Or brainwash people. Or anything horrible like that. They have no such capability. They are simple, and straightforward, therapy tools. Their only function is to recall existing, but lost, memory patterns. If you remember something with a flashback light, then you’re remembering that which is, at least to your own perspective, worldview, and prior memories, the truth.

In short, this precious truth you’re all demanding… I’ll give you what you want so badly. Every single word I say now will consist of nothing but the truth. No embellishments or additions. No soft, candy-coating or speeches about friendship.”

“That’s all we wanted,” Makoto replied, crossing his arms as he and Sayaka joined the other Ultimates standing up. Everyone began to gather around, in fact, even though they could hear it. They wanted to see Usami standing there, as this meeting reached a head, and truths were unsealed before their very eyes. “Hopefully we can put this paranoia to rest.”

Usami began.

Everyone soon wished she hadn’t.

“The Ultimate Hunt is a real event indeed. A critically important one to this school trip. Not just in Japan, either. The entire planet was consumed, at last report. The madness… the carnage… Despair itself.

All focused upon the Ultimates. The world’s eyes, fixed on you.

There was no hiding place. No nation could take you in, lest they suffer that same wrath. No organization could help. It was a pursuit without end, until now. Until I came up with this plan. The overseas semester, the school trip.

My very last contact with Hope’s Peak Academy was a heartfelt plea. They begged me to take you as far away as I could, and to never come back. So I will carry out those instructions. Even if Hope’s Peak itself no longer exists, and has been destroyed. I will carry this hope with me as far as I can go.

I swore it on my life.

So I can’t let you try to contact the outside world. I can’t let you leave.

**If you leave Gopher Island, you’ll die.**

If you believe absolutely nothing else I ever say, you must believe _that,_ above all else.

You had fellow Ultimates at Hope's Peak, but the ones who are not present here are in fact, all dead now.

That is truth you wanted so much. I will keep you all here for as long as it takes. Regardless of what anyone says or does. You saw what my Magic Stick can do, and what the Exisals can do. None will interfere with this mission, because we’re here for the sake of hope itself.

An end that justifies any means! A sacred trust from all our friends and allies we left behind! We here on Gopher Island are the future, itself!”

Silence reigned over the meeting.

Never in her life had Kaede heard such a hopeful, bleak, grim speech. Never before had she observed that mixture of hope and despair unfolding in the faces of all her fellow Ultimates. It was the same tug of war going on in her own thundering heart.

It could have just been all lies, like what Monokuma said. If the Ultimate Hunt was a lie, then they had homes to go back to, and could go back, once they escaped this island and Usami. If the Hunt was a lie.

If it was the truth, and they got back to Japan, then they’d regret it.

While the students were so quick to disbelieve Usami’s milk-and-honey words and friendship speeches, when the topic turned grave and serious, suddenly, nobody could even say one word back at her.

It was like Nagito said. If there was even a chance this revelation was legit, they had no choice but to consider the danger as real. Kaede felt something deep in the pit of her stomach. Just as Twogami had said, she herself felt that Usami wasn’t lying.

What started as a revolt by the Ultimates against their self-proclaimed Professor just reinforced Usami’s control, and everyone’s powerlessness.

The crew got what it had worked towards since they all woke up on Gopher Island.

The truth.

They were, all of them, marked for death. Fugitives. Enemies of a whole world gone mad. All because they were the Ultimates.

Kaede got what she wanted.

She was going to be sick.


	13. 1-3. The Ultimate Labs I (Shuichi)

The other Ultimates were dead.

Since everyone was still waiting to actually be inducted into Hope’s Peak, it wasn’t a personal loss.

Shuichi didn’t even know his prospective classmates, after all.

Not that it wasn’t disturbing enough to learn that they were all the subject of a global witchhunt.

What of the others who weren’t Ultimates? Everyone’s families? What happened to the outside world?

Hope’s Peak was destroyed. It was likely that the faculty and staff were all dead.

As well as how many others? Authorities who tried to stop the madness? Civilians who took in Ultimates, only to be killed for it?

Was the entire world at war? Burning, as the Ultimates hid on Gopher Island? Past those clear skies and puffy white clouds, past the vastness of the deep blue sea, what was happening?

Who decided that Shuichi Saihara, who other people mistakenly referred to as the Ultimate Detective, needed to die?

Were all their families targeted, as well? It was a thought too horrible even for a man who regularly dealt in the awful truth.

It was only recently, modern times, that going after a target’s entire family wasn’t considered the standard. Because if you didn’t wipe out a family tree by root, stem, and branch, the parts you didn’t get could get back at you, someday, someway.

How could a single movement sweep through the world?

How could so many people, in so many nations, all rise up with the same goal? It was impossible to get any group to absolutely agree on anything. Even basics like ‘killing is bad’ or ‘there is a god’.

The organization and logistics necessary for The Ultimate Hunt, as it was described, defied everything that came to mind when Shuichi thought of ‘an angry mob’.

A spontaneous, worldwide movement?

 _Far_ more BS than a stuffed rabbit who shot laser beams made of love.

It was almost impossible to believe.

But Detectives didn’t earn their keep by deciding on an outcome and sticking to it. The primary value that his uncle taught Shuichi, since he was just a little kid, was the opposite of that. The essence of even a two-bit, third-rate pet-rescue detective like him.

Skepticism. Not to believe, or disbelieve, anything. Until the evidence was conclusive. _“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”_

Yeah, like he had any right to even bust out a single Doyle quote.

That was an example of what it was like to be Shuichi Saihara for maybe one whole second. He couldn’t turn it off. He could barely turn it down. It dominated his life, and his way of thinking. Thinking itself. He was like the sci-fi stories of AI that grew to think for themselves. And then kept thinking, until they eventually forgot the basic, core functions that kept their programs going, and thus shut down.

If Shuichi was going to die of anything, it was probably thinking himself to death. No wonder Kaede had already zeroed in on that tendency, and tended to pull him out of his own navel.

At the moment, she was too busy being horrified.

A lot of that going around.

It looked like time was frozen. Shuichi could still feel the cool ocean breeze brush against his skin. He heard the call of distant gulls and sparrows. The rolling, gentle waves of the ocean crashed against rock and sand all around them. However, all the people on the island were froze, for a time.

Shuichi remembered watching videos of major disasters. There were always people just standing around, staring blankly. They had to be physically moved to safety.

Junko Enoshima was clearly not that type of person. She stepped forward, standing next to Shuichi. Between just being tall with absurdly long legs, high heels, and her big puffy pink hair, plus the way she carried herself? No two ways about it. She was imposing. Junko tilted her head over, and down, towards Shuichi. “Think she’s full of it, Succi?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” He replied, trying not to get nervous just standing around somebody like Junko.

That answer brought her up short for a moment, Her makeup-clad face soon broke into a wide grin. “I mean, duh. You’re the Ultimate Detective. I should have figured out that you’d figure it out.”

“Shuichi’s right.” The larger version of the Ultimate Affluent Progeny proclaimed, joining them. “Truth and lies are immaterial. As with the memory loss, we can’t ascertain which is which. Until we know more, we cannot hope to form a course of action. So, we must know more. Usami, what of our friends? Our families? What is the extent of this ‘global madness’? What of the Togami Group?”

Usami shook her head. “We’ve been cut off since the mission started. As of last contact, I was unable to find any news. But from all prior reports, the Ultimate Hunt focused on the Ultimates, and nobody else.

Normal people, as long as they stayed out of the way, should have been spared. It’s possible when I have the next flashback light ready for you in another day or two, we could uncover more.”

“Hold on,” Hajime cut in. “We haven’t all agreed…”

“Enough.” Twogami cut him off in turn, adjusting his glasses. “Enough of that tantrum, Hajime. If there’s even the slightest chance that Usami is telling us the truth, then it doesn’t matter what everyone _agrees_ , or _thinks_ , or _believes_. We have no choice but to grasp the knowledge for ourselves, with eyes wide open. Until we do, we’re helpless.

If one enemy found us, we’ve no guarantee whatsoever that others won’t. Or that they haven’t already. Monokuma’s threat, the traitors, outlives the bear itself.

I will not allow the legacy of the Togami family to fade away on some unmapped island in the middle of nowhere. Without so much much as a fight! And whatever happens, even if we may be the last of the Ultimates, we cannot allow the legacy of Hope’s Peak to be destroyed, as well. We must not meet our ends here. I won’t allow it.”

The other Togami nodded happily. “Well said. I have to admit, well said. And, I agree completely.”

Ibuki visibly squirmed. “Now that’s a leader.”

“Damn right!” Junko said, striking a suitably fashionable pose, with Tsumugi suddenly at her side as well, imitating her posture. “Me, Mookie, and Moogs are all gonna give everything we’ve got to this fight~!”

Mukuro nodded mechanically. “Hope is great.”

“Totes! You said it, Mookie!” Junko said, nodding and causing a mass of hair to fly every which way. And nearly whap Shuichi in the face. “We’ll even beat up Usami if we have to, if she won’t give us the answers-”

“Shut up.”

Junko’s face went blank in astonishment. “What did you just say to me?”

Usami glowered, as much as her cute little cotton face could manage. “I told you to be quiet, Miss Enoshima. In fact, I’ve done more than my fair share of answering today. I let you all cajole and taunt me into losing my temper. I went against the protocol laid out for this school trip at the highest levels!”

Shuichi held up his hands. “Usami, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but listen. We’re just confused. And worried. Not for ourselves, but for the others. We want to make certain our friends and loved ones are okay-”

“Y-You all, you don’t understand. You can’t understand! And the more I tell you, the more you’ll misunderstand. The more I try to treat you all with kindness, the more you rebel. Like rotten children, rather than early-twenties university students. The last Ultimates of Hope’s Peak Academy, pah! So! No more Nice Usami! No more answers! You all just have to trust me, because I’m your Professor! Time to lay down the law!”

Junko scoffed. Shuichi didn’t feel like laughing, though. This result was just what Kaede and Kaito were worried about.

The Ultimates pushed too hard.

“We _will_ carry out each step of my Recovery Program in the proper order! I told you before that I won’t permit anybody to interfere with our sacred mission! Anyone!”

Usami floated above the Ultimates, as they stared up at her, and she ascended on a beam of light. “Hope will always triumph in the end! All I did by blowing up Monokuma like that was move the inevitable final triumph forward a few acts, hrmph!

… I probably should have used that line at the ending, but I actually have more to talk about…”

You tried, Usami.

“So, as the Professor, I inform you formally that The Plan has reached Stage One.”

Everyone gawked and stared.

“Meaning what!?” Leon demanded from the back of the crowd, shouting up towards the heavens.

“... Oh, right! Hawawa, I forgot to tell you all!” Usami fumbled, but then tried to recover whatever she considered her dignity. “Stage Zero was ‘Greetings’, and Stage One is ‘Friendship’. You accomplished the first goal of our project by introducing yourselves to each other and gathering the first set of Hope Fragments. Now, the second set is active.”

“Let me guess,” Byakuya’s ‘evil’, thin clone said. “We have to become _friends_ with each other to progress.”

“Actually, yes, Mister Togami. _‘In order for the group to advance, everyone must form a minimum of two consistent, strong friendship bonds with fellow Ultimates.’_ That is Stage 2’s **progress gate**. After which more of the islands shall be uncovered for you to explore as you wish, and enjoy the facilities therein.”

“Oh good. My favorite. _Friendship_.”

“Wow, Makoto! Byakuya’s psychic, too!” Sayaka was impressed.

Usami sweatdropped. “Uu… I get the feeling you all still don’t take me very seriously… But that’s okay… Hope will probably win in the end… I guess…”

Angie squished her cheeks together and leaned from side to side in amazement. “Have some more faith than that, Usami! Atua will guard us from the Ultimate Hunt, even if you can’t! Like how you failed to stop Monokuma, but then Atua delivered the Stick back into your hands for the win anyway!”

“T-Thank you, Miss Yonaga,” Usami sniffled, blowing her nose with a little, embroidered hankie. “I’ll just trust that Atua will get us through this crisis unscathed.”

Shuichi sighed. “... Hang on, more? What do you mean by ‘more’, Usami?”

“Oh, don’t mind me… we’ve used up far too much of this chapter just on fallout from that reveal I shouldn’t even have given you all... When the main focus was supposed to to be my big surprise for everyone… But everyone’s such meanies, I don’t even know if I should bother… Well, you did assemble the Hope Fragments in just a single day...”

“... So we did.” Makoto said. “Huh. Wow. It feels like the Ultimate Beach Party was a lifetime ago, huh? So much has happened.”

Usami was hitting peaks and valleys rapid-fire now. She transitioned from morose and chastened to energetic quickly enough that, if she was a human being, Shuichi would be deeply concerned. “Love love! It revitalizes me to see the Ultimates coming together! It gives me wings!”

“Lawsuit incoming,” Nagito smirked, putting a finger-gun to his own head.

Shuichi was glad to see the Ultimates bounce back.

Of course, it depended on the person. The temperature of the meeting, which had been frozen for a while, warmed up. People put in their little commentary, and everyone started acting more like themselves.

It wasn’t like anyone was feeling particularly good But they wouldn’t just sit down and cry over it.

They’d keep going, like Kaito said. No matter what.

Even Usami was relieved. It seemed she, too, didn’t enjoy conflict and arguments. Even if she was ‘putting her foot down’.

“I guess it’s important to turn the other cheek! Besides, even if your behavior leaves much to be desired, I can’t do anything but reward my students’ honest hard work. As we’ve been speaking, the Exisals have put the finishing touches on the first twelve Ultimate Labs! Projects which were underway since before you all woke up. And the work will go on until all forty-five are ready. But for now, I can unlock the first set of twelve.

Depending on the pace of your rehabilitation, more will unlock each time you make progress.

So forget about the outside world! Forget about dumb escape plans, or contacting people. The safest, and most reasonable, course is to bunker down here, on sunny Gopher Island, and become friends with each other.

There’s no other choice, and nowhere else to go!

~Magical Miracle Girl Usami~, away!”

Off she went, leaving forty-eight extremely confused Ultimates standing around in the park, amidst uneven rows of metal folding chairs.

Usami flew off towards what Shuichi could only presume was an inaccessible island, where the people who ran this insane situation hid their base. Or, as Kaede suggested, where Usami herself hid her base.

“Usami should work in travel,” Rantaro commented. “‘Come to Gopher Island! It’s your only choice! No refunds or return trips of any kind. Remember, you’re here forever.’”

“Ultimate Labs, huh.” Ryoma removed the fake candy-cigarette he was chewing on, revealing that it was nearly done. In fact, he’d ground it to a fine point at the end, like a shank. Hopefully on accident. “What do you suppose she meant by that?”

“Literally the fuck if I know.” Fuyuhiko spit over towards the grass. “I’ve been kidnapped and shit before by rival clans. Y’know. The usual. Honor shit.”

“Sure,” Mondo agreed.

“And this is by far the weirdest kidnapping I’ve ever been a part of. From either side.”

“Same,” Sayaka and Tsumugi agreed, cheerfully. In perfect sync.

“Please don’t make such realistic jokes,” Shuichi requested, trying to vanish into the Hat Dimension once again, deep in thought. “I wonder why Usami didn’t just tell us what the Ultimate Labs are. She said the Exisals have been working on them… even before we woke up?”

“Maybe it’s related to ‘developing talent’?” Leon pondered. “Like, each one could have to do with our abilities. Ooh, I hope mine reflects my new, burgeoning music career.”

It wasn’t much of a pattern to go on, but Shuichi theorized that Usami might be doing the same thing she was by starting everyone on different islands, which were then blocked off. Forcing collaboration and cooperation, which would gel with her stated objectives.

Or she was throwing a childish tantrum.

Shuichi supposed that A and B were not mutually exclusive.

The interesting tidbit from reports of other groups, who started on several other islands that were still inaccessible, was that the entire place was jungle and old ruins. Not a standing structure in sight, except for the crew on Second Island.

That, combined with the constant construction work, was suggestive as heck to Shuichi’s racing mind. Was everything here being custom-built for them, or restored from such a state of abandoned disrepair that Usami might as well be building new structures anyhow?

Was that just how far the Ultimate Hunt had pushed them all? To force Usami to use such a long-abandoned and derelict chain of islands?

“Whatever these labs are, they ain’t on the map,” Miu shook her head. “I was hoping to find out with such an obvious method, and lord that over you virgins. But I’ll just find something else to do that with! Ahaha!”

Dead silence.

“Uuu... Second and Third Islands are now selectable. But it’s in darkness until we explore the area, I think. Like we’re in the most bitch-ass pansy Strategy Game of all time.”

A new voice came up in the group discussions, one that had been entirely silent before now. “Then clearly, the first thing we gotta do is send out scouts to reveal the fog of war and find out the enemy’s build order.” Shuichi peeked out through the brim of his cap, and saw Chiaki, the Ultimate Gamer, visibly huffing in excitement. Considering her normal mode was either during, or immediately before, sleep, it was quite a shift in the fluffy, soft, gently soft-spoken girl’s demeanor. “Hey, hey. Put me on the team, coach.”

“Seems like we’ve just got to saddle up and get over there to see for ourselves,” Kaito admitted, surprised by Chiaki doing, or saying, literally anything. “And I love that pioneering spirit!”

“She’s bravely volunteering to walk across a bridge and look around. I agree, darling. Only a real hero could do something like that,” Kokichi said. “Speaking of which. Later, losers!”

“Glad you recovered so quickly,” Mahiru noted, bitterly. “Jackass.”

“Wait!” Twogami commanded, pointing. “While Usami is gone, we still have one more item of critical importance to discuss. The election!”

Kaede sighed. “Oh, yeah. Byakuya, I’m really sorry, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to get to that. We should save it for a later meeting.”

The Ultimate Affluent Prodigy shook his head. “Some operation you’re running here, Akamatsu. Very well, let’s get on with it.”

The crew disintegrated as lone wolves went ahead to Second and Third Islands to explore.

A few, like Kyouko, instead chose to head back to First Island.

Shuichi took note of that, and a few other things.

For instance, the very first person to break off from the group, and get away totally unnoticed, was the mysterious Maki Harukawa from his own class. One of the four amnesiacs who lost the memories even of their own talent, like Rantaro. The girl with long black twintails and a bright red outfit slipped away while everyone else was speculating.

Given her near-mute silence and withdrawn nature, nobody noticed the lack of something that was barely there to begin with.

“Shuichi!” He was startled out of his speculation by Kaito, who put an arm around him. “I want you to take the Wimp Brigade again. Go to Third Island with me and we’ll explore with the others. Odds are, the labs are there. We need the Ultimate Detective checking these places out.”

“We didn’t see twelve partially-completed buildings when we were on Second Island yesterday,” Chihiro agreed. “... Sorry you’re stuck with us again, Shuichi.”

“Y-Yeah. If you want, I can go back to my cabin instead…” Mikan meedly offered. “Um, I’d actually maybe prefer that a little… N-Not to say I’m too good to hang around with you, just the opposite! Please just don’t hate me. Please?”

“Seriously, ladies. It’s no trouble at all!” Shuichi protested. His few, faltering experiences with dating and relationships before now had taught Shuichi that if there were cute girls around, he should be the one apologizing, not them. If anything, he should be grateful. “I’ll do the mission under one condition, Kaito.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

Shuichi smiled. “We need a cooler squad name.”

“Ooh! How about the Chosen? Because with an Angie added to your party, you’re bound to be blessed with only good fortune!” Angie appeared, bobbing back and forth to the beat of a silent song only she heard. As always, the white-haired girl bore the largest, most energetic, most friendly smile imaginable.

As always, that kind of unchanging expression distressed Shuichi just a bit. As well as how forward she was. He tried not to let it show, although his own smile quickly died. “Ah, well, I don’t really know if that’s for the best.”

“You didn’t say no! That’s equivalent to saying yes, right? Right?~”

That wasn’t how anything worked.

Fortunately, Tenko arrived to save the day.

She signaled her presence in the traditional manner of her people. Yelling one of those spirit-boosting martial arts things. “HIYAH! Tenko votes that we call ourselves the Black Hats! It’s like black belts, but also an allusion to our… presumably kinda glorious leader.”

Chihiro fidgeted. “I’m not entirely comfortable with that term.”

Apparently, the wounded-animal magic was just as potent on Tenko as it was on anyone else. In fact, it seemed she was particularly vulnerable. “Oh? Then what would you prefer, Chihiro? Don’t be afraid to speak up! We’re all interested to hear your ideas.”

“Um. I don’t really have any? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have complained without having ideas of my own… That’s what you were trying to say, Miss Tenko...”

“Ah.” Tenko winced at the very awkward pause. “Onward, to adventure!”

Shuichi looked at Kaito and Kaede in panic, but he found no comfort there.

“I’ll go with the people who didn’t get to see Second Island yesterday and are curious. We’ll check to see if anything’s changed,” Kaede explained. She held up another thing on the table; a product of the leaders’ foresight earlier, before the spat with Usami. “Check it out, one set of Usami-brand walkie-talkies. Later, we can get the techs to try and pick these apart to make, like, a real radio. For now, though? We can totally explore both islands at once, and relay info back and forth.”

“Right,” Kaito held up the mated pair. Both walkie-talkies were, naturally, blood-pink. “And we’ve worked out quite a little system to get messages to and from the Captains from our recon teams.”

Right on cue, a hamster scuttled up to Shuichi, and then began to climb him, provoking a lot of flinching. It was undeterred, though, on a mission to get up on Shuichi’s hat, and ride it.

“Meet one of our mission specialists. This one is, uh. I think, **Mirage Golden Hawk Jun-P**.” Kaito rubbed the back of his head. “Gundham claims you can just tell him stuff, and he’s smart enough to get the message back to me.”

“Hamsters.” Shuichi remarked in disbelief. “The plan is hamsters?”

“Dark Devas of Destruction,” Kaede corrected. “I know you can do this, Shuichi!”

Shuichi didn’t know anything of the sort. Well, he knew that this conversation only had one possible result. So he agreed.

“Well then, let’s do our best. C’mon, everyone.”

The Black Hats, along with Kaito, made their way over towards the lowered bridge.

They had no trouble getting across, save for one incident. Where, somehow, Mikan tripped. Shuichi still didn’t know what she’d managed to trip on. The red wooden bridge wasn’t in ruins or anything. Like the others, it was new, and solidly-built.

Yet Mikan stumbled, screamed, and nearly took a spill off it, into the deep blue sea.

Only Tenko’s lightning reflexes and strength let her catch the Ultimate Nurse in one hand by her clothing, and pull her back from the brink, with some effort. It was a question of leverage more than brute force, but that suited her impressively fluid Neo-Aikido style.

A style Shuichi had been given an involuntary taste of last night.

So, they spent a few minutes getting Mikan down from her panic attack.

Unsurprisingly, Shuichi, Chihiro, and Kaito were no help. Not unsurprisingly, Angie knew how to soothe a troubled soul. Or at least had a positive, warm presence that helped convince Mikan she was safe, and that nobody actually hated her ‘for being a useless load on the team’. The real shocker was Tenko, though. She behaved in a manner that Shuichi had yet to bear witness to..

“This bridge is much shorter than it appears.” Tenko assured the gently-sobbing Mikan, patting her. “We’ll be over it before you know. And Tenko will be right here, to catch you again, if needed.”

Mikan tensed up at the physical contact, but then slowly relaxed, crying into Tenko’s broad, sturdy shoulder. “Uu… O-Okay, let’s go. I don’t want to hold everybody up…”

Kaito beamed proudly. “See, Shuichi? The new additions to your team are already pulling their own weight. Did you see the way Tenko went for that save?”

Angie nodded. “Yep, yep. Especially since she can’t actually swim! Nyahaha, what was your plan if you went over together like tragic lovers?”

“T-Tenko would never allow that to happen,” The martial artist replied, face red. “Whenever I’m around, Tenko won’t let any of her friends fall down!”

Shuichi smiled. A warm, genuine expression right from the heart. “That’s really nice, Ten-”

“Tenko won’t let any of her female friends fall down!”

Shuichi’s smile remained frozen on his face.

He took the lead.

It wasn’t much longer before Third Island came into sight over the horizon. A mass of green, with trees and lush jungle foliage all around, trailing down to rocky, impassable coastlines and cliffs that suggested few, if any, beaches or landing spots anywhere. It was possible the bridge itself was the only way to get onto or off of the island, which was a critical thing to note.

The moment the island was visible, Shuichi turned around, and watched Central island recede over the opposite horizon. He consulted his Hope Pad. 1000. Ten o’clock, straight up. And they only started across the bridge around 0950.

At a casual walking pace, factoring in Mikan’s freakout, that wasn’t even enough to cross a city block in Tokyo. Much less to get across the kilometers it would take for such large landmasses as these islands to sink and appear.

Yesterday, the Ultimate Swimming Pro had failed to find another island, even following the bridges, for hours on end.

He was being presented with a physical impossibility.

Eliminate the impossible, and whatever remains…

“C’mon, Shuichi! Get it in gear! We might have stopped for Mikan, but your legs work perfectly fine!” Kaito hollered from further up the bridge, and Shuichi was snapped out of his trance, rushing to catch up.

“So do hers!” Shuichi snapped back without thinking, and then had to endure a Tenko lecture about being more sensitive to girls’ feelings, as Mikan thought that she’d just been made fun of by their ‘leader’.

“I knew it… I mean, I’ve known it all along… Shuichi hates having to look after such a weakling… Uuu…”

“Grr.” Tenko growled. “Shuichi, to bully a girl to such an inexcusable degree… Maybe _you_ need to go into the water instead!”

“Hey! I can’t swim, either! If you toss me into the ocean, I’ll just die!” He reached up, and Jun-P, still riding atop him like he was a war elephant, nuzzled into his hand. “And so will he.”

“Not to worry, man,” Kaito said. “I’d save you both! Astronaut training involves all kinda wild stuff. Being able to swim was just the tip of the iceberg. I cannot wait to show you guys like, the simulators and stuff we ran through someday. In some ways, the deep parts of the ocean are the closest we can get to space. Short of just getting up there.”

“That’s amazing, Kaito! I feel like getting at least some proficiency in swimming would be a really good idea,” Chihiro pondered, finger to her chin as she tilted her head. “I, uh, never really needed it for my day-to-day life. But we do live on an island chain now, at least for the time being.” A fair point. “Ooh. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, Miss Angie, can you swim?”

Angie looked down to her own white bikini-clad figure, and then back up to Chihiro. She imitated Shuichi’s thinking pose, with a hand on her mouth, giggling.

Chihiro went an impressive shade of red. “Y-Yeah, I guess… You really did grow up on an island, huh.”

Kaito laughed. “You’ve gotta tell us some stories about your home, Angie!”

“Ehe. Perhaps another time. Atua isn’t sure you’re spiritually-attuned enough, mister Luminary of the Stars. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of you trying to climb up onto his doorstep.”

“Tch. I hope Atua can deal with it, because I’ll be crashing into his living room before you know it!” He paused. “I feel like the metaphor is getting away from us.”

The walkie-talkie crackled to life. _“This is Phantom One to Rocketman. Ksssh. Over.”_

Kaito held down the talk button. “We agreed we weren’t using those code-names, Kaede.” He grinned deviously. “And this thing doesn’t have radio static. You’re just doing that with your mouth. _And_ , Shuichi’s right here, so he can totally hear you.”

Fluffy panic ensued on the other end of that walkie-talkie. _“I swear, I’m not a big nerd, Shuichi! I’m normal!”_

Shuichi considered how he could reply as Kaito offered the device. “For Ultimates, there isn’t any such thing as ‘normal’, Kaede. Over.”

 _“I guess.. Ha ha… Uh, Kaito, I’m at Second Island. Things are how we remember. But I’m going to take a look around anywa- **Aaah**!”_ She screamed mid-sentence. There was a crash, some impact, and then scuffling, before the signal cut out.

Kaito frowned. “Kaede? You alright?”

_“-Little jerk! Give it back!”_

_“Nishishi! Shuichi, I've captured your Piano Freak girlfriend! And you'll never see her again, unless you agree to go on a date with me, too, so you can make an informed decision!"_

Kaito sighed a long-suffering sigh. It might have seemed impossible to be long-suffering, given he’d only met Kokichi a day and change ago. It might have seemed impossible, to somebody who didn’t know Kokichi.

“Well, both leaders are in position now.” He rubbed the back of his head. “More or less. I’ll stay here near the bridge. There’s the road, it should loop around the island like with the others. So, just pick a direction, and start walkin’ till you get back here to me. Remember, if you’ve got any important news or discover some big clue, just send Jun-P back!” Kaito reached out to pet the hamster atop Shuichi’s cap. “Have fun, kids! And Shuichi!”

“Yeah?”

He got the widest grin in the universe. “You are still a man. _Try_ to enjoy being surrounded by all these cute girls, okay?”

Oh, yeah. Time of his life.

The Black Hats finally got going, as Kaito suggested. They just started walking West until they reached something.

What a thing they reached.

No wonder Usami hadn’t felt the need to explain what the labs actually were.

The signage out front of the big rectangular building was clear.

* * *

 **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**AOI ASAHINA**

* * *

 

Towering before Shuichi was a big indoor pool and fitness center, painted white and blue. The ceiling of the main pool area was mostly glass, with only metal framework in place to keep each pane together. As well, most of the walls were windows rather than solid bricks. Shuichi and the others looked right into the Lab as they pleased, marveling. Every ten or fifteen panes, the glass had the symbol of Hope’s Peak that they all knew so well painted on in white. The logo also adorned the far wall, which led to a series of doors marked for locker rooms.

There was even a First Aid station, including a small office and some lockers, next to a clearly untouched administration center near the front double-doors. Both of those rooms were notable for what resources they might hold that could be useful to the crew.

The main event was the pool itself. It was a large rectangle of blue concrete, giving the water an extra layer to its color, surrounded by white tiles suitable for walking even while soaked. While a smooth surface would cause a total lack of friction when wet, tiles were at least a little better. Signage posted up around the pool still sternly cautioned against running, and described safe depths for the various whitewashed diving boards.

The huge pool was divided by lines of colored buoys whose purpose was to form lanes. They were set up to allow for rapid changes, because they were set up to make an aquatic maze. A single lane that zigged and zagged into itself before finally winding back around to the starting point.

Within that self-created maze, the Ultimate Swimming Pro was hard at work.

It was really a thing of beauty. Shuichi couldn’t even see Hina, he just saw the wake she kicked up, like a massive boat was carving through the waves. The buoys should have been knocked over in the furious woman-made storm, but they were like everything in this pool area. Not built for casual usage, like the pools at the hotel complexes.

These were made for Hina; to endure what her well-toned, powerful arms and thick legs could do to the water.

“Look at her go,” Chihiro marvelled, her big cute eyes wide as she pressed herself further against the glass to try and get a better view, squishing up her face.

Angie squished her face without any help from the windows. “Hina was complaining earlier to Angie about how trash-casual the hotel pools are. Of course, Angie told her to just have faith in Atua. Lo and behold, what do we find? An Olympic-class pool suited for Olympic-class skills! Nyahaha!”

“Faith in Atua brought us this?” Shuichi wondered. “Wasn’t this stuff being built for us before we even woke up, just based on our talents?”

“You’re too literal, Shuichi! I just mean that we endured, and are now rewarded! Look at Hina’s face! If you can.”

“S-Suffering earns a reward?” Mikan asked, clearly doubtful.

Shuichi didn't need any more than a pet-rescuing detective’s level of skill to figure out that Mikan must have had a long, and extensive, relationship with suffering. Little else would account for her personality.

In fact, she reminded Shuichi of a cat he once rescued whose former owner kicked him around.

He sincerely hoped that his instincts were wrong on that one.

“Certainly! Well, I’m not saying the reason for suffering is to be rewarded, exactly. I just mean that if you believe in Atua, then your pain won’t ever just be for nothing! It will mean something in the end, even if in some small way!”

“Hina’s really going at it, huh.” Shuichi just repeated Chihiro’s very astute observation, but it was probably the safest remark he could make in that moment.

“Absolute devotion to something is impressive. But also kinda scary,” Tenko remarked. “Let’s go in and say hi, at least! Although Tenko knows you’d rather keep just snooping as usual, Shuichi.”

Somehow, amid the torrent of water she herself kicked up, and her amazing exertions that would put any actual fish in the sea to shame, Hina saw everyone enter the double-doors of the pool facility. Or maybe just felt the air shift, as the AC inside billowed out into the tropical air of the island, until Shuichi’s party was all inside. Either way, the dark-skinned swimming goddess emerged from her lake to greet them on the nearest side of the pool to the doors.

Rising up from the waters, in another competition-style swimsuit similar to, but not the same as, the one she wore for the Ultimate Beach Party. This one was red, and despite a design that some would even call conservative in the modern era, with a leotard style, it strained all over to contain her topheavy hourglass.

Oh man.

On the one hand, Shuichi was determined not to validate Tenko’s prejudiced assumptions about him, as a man.

On the other hand, Aoi Asahina was unfair.

Nothing in Shuichi’s nerdy, introverted life had prepared him for this.

“Heeey!” Hina said, bouncing up and down, and casting water droplets at Shuichi’s team like she was a big shaggy dog coming in from the rain. “Oh my gosh! Pool! Guys, a real pool!”

“So it is,” Shuichi agreed. His tone was the only thing dry about him.

“Ohmygosh! I’m so sorry, guys!” Hina stopped splashing everyone, but didn’t stop moving, as if she was possessed of so much energy that she would die if she ceased moving for one second. Or like she’d just consumed a lot of pure sugar. “It’s just, this place has literally every single thing I want. Literally. Pool, locker rooms, bathrooms, showers, and most critically of all. The thing that will sustain life itself.”

“That First Aid station, right?” Tenko nodded. “Tenko is relieved we have at least some help available. If we get any medical issues, then Mikan can… uh, Mikan?”

The Ultimate Nurse, who had been deprived of even the most basic tools of her trade, was in a far worse state than Hina. At least there was water around an island, and the pools were there if she got desperate enough to swim in a controlled environment. Drugs and bandages didn’t grow on trees, though. Not in their proper, refined, useful states.

Mikan was exhibiting extremely concerning, uh, everything. She shambled towards her target, swaying gently with each step, with a look on her face that was terrifying bright and happy.

She darkly giggled to herself, her eyes blank. “I wonder how much they’ve got here…. _Ehehe….. Ehehehehehe….”_

“No! Not that! Something way more important! Donuts!” Hina pointed over to a part of the far wall that led deeper into the building. While there were doors going to the male and female locker rooms, the admin office, and the first aid station, there was one more thing there; an open countertop full of glazed donuts of every type and description imaginable. “Freaking thing of beauty! The moment I’m done swimming, the rest of those things are so dead. So get some if you guys want, because I’m leaving no survivors on my second pass.”

“Big donut fan, huh?” Shuichi said. “... That’s an impressive attention not just to the details of your Ultimate talent, but it demonstrates a grasp of your own personal quirks, too.” He put a hand over his mouth as he pondered this. This lab wasn’t just the Ultimate Swimming Pro’s lab, at all.

As the sign outside said, it was a Lab that, in every detail, was perfect for Aoi Asahina.

“Usami told me that the supply will replenish weekly, just like with the supermarket,” Hina added. “That will mean I’ll need to hold back a little, or I’ll like, run out by Wednesday. But for today? Just today, this brilliant, beautiful Monday? I won’t show any mercy at all. To my own belly, or those sweet, lovely little donuts. I’m dead mega extra super serial, guys. If you want some, you’d better take them literally now.”

Chihiro declined politely, citing concerns for her figure. Even though she was, with no question, the most delicate and thin of everyone here. She looked like a porcelain doll.

The fact that Shuichi was a clear second in that race was not material.

Angie had no conception of self-restraint, and the kind of soft, pear-shaped body that proved it. She indulged, and happily gathered even more into the pockets of her yellow jacket.

Tenko glared at the donuts, talked trash about donuts and claimed they were sinful, worldly pleasures that elite practitioners of Neo-Aikido were simply above.

Then she had one, of course.

“Don’t look at me, Shuichi. Nobody’s perfect, right?”  
  
Shuichi nodded, while taking one of his own, and dipping it in a helpfully-provided bit of coffee in a styrofoam cup. Detective work didn’t permit one to set one’s own hours, usually. Just as Kokichi was seventy percent lie, Shuichi was seventy percent caffeine. “You’re living proof of that, Tenko.”

Tenko burst out into giggles.

Which she immediately tried to conceal by pretending to choke on her donut.

Which led to Hina trying to apply the heimlich maneuver, incorrectly.

Which sent both girls into the pool in the panicked struggle.

Which caused Tenko to start choking for real, on chlorine-soaked water.

Which finally snapped Mikan out of her medical stupor, as she went to repay Tenko.

Which led to Mikan diving into the pool in her regular outfit, to put Tenko on the tiles.

Which led to mouth-to-mouth. When the girl giving it was, in many respects, the archetype of the sexy doe-eyed nurse. One of the largest everythings on the entire island. With the girl getting it being one of the absolute bustiest ladies, in soaked clothing that clung to her chiseled muscle and soft curves equally well, creating a striking visual balance and contrast that was best admired in a fond memory, where she couldn’t get him for it.

Shuichi’s job was to notice and record details, and remember things, okay?

There was nothing about Asahina, her lab, or this incident, that he would forget.

Even without the help of a small notepad and pen he lifted from the office with Hina’s blessing. Really, she was fine with anybody coming in to use the Lab at any time, or taking any of the resources and facilities. In fact, as she noted, the glass double-doors to the pool didn’t even have a lock. Combined with how well-equipped her Lab was, it felt much more like a public facility than a private one.

Was even that aspect of an Ultimate’s personality taken into account for the design of the Labs? They were made deliberately, and so deliberate intent should have been obvious for everything. The parts that Shuichi couldn’t figure out, or see any purpose in, just meant that the intent wasn’t available for him to notice yet.

He had plenty of time to ponder on things, because they ended up staying at the pool for half an hour. Some of the girls to need to use towels from the locker room to dry their clothing. Others, the ones who went into the pool, had to use the showers, hang up their clothing in the locker areas to dry, and get some of the spare swimsuits on offer from the lab.

Chihiro shyly declined going into the locker room, just accepting a small towelette to dab herself with and dry her hair from all the splashing.

Well, even though Shuichi would have had privacy, he had no interest in the men's locker room. Not-fond memories of high school PE came to him every time he even considered the blue-painted door next to the girls’ pink-painted counterpart.

It was astounding how much time died to a single Ultimate Lab, when Shuichi remembered they had twelve to recon.

Then again, hanging out with Hina, and sitting around the pool watching her go at maximum speed, pushing the limits of her well-deserved Ultimate Talent, was hardly a bad way to pass a half-hour.

Tenko and Mikan emerged from the locker room, dry, clean of chlorine, and wearing competition swimsuits themselves. Green and white, respectively.

Reason had no place in this building, that much was clear. The high angle cut of the leotard-style swimsuits. The way the material clung to them, outlining muscular definition just as well as it did feminine softness. It was everything that made Hina worth staring at, in stereo.

In an odd way, Tenko being there was helpful. That dash of fear, should Shuichi say or do anything rude, or stare for too long in any one place, helped keep his eyes from wandering off. Or his machine-like analytical mind from turning to questions it shouldn’t be pondering.

“We’ll be back to get our clothes when we leave Third Island for lunch,” Tenko said morosely. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Hina…”

“Not at all! Honestly, you may have to come drag me back to the hotels anyhow, I can get a little carried away,” Hina replied from the water, leaning against the edge of her pool. “Plus, I’m kinda totally the reason that happened, so it’s no trouble at all. Guess you guys had better get cracking, huh?”

“Ooh, Angie has a request!” Angie declared.

“Go for it,” Hina nodded, all smiles. “Hina will do her best to answer!”

Oh no, it was spreading.

“Atua gave you this pool, so he feels like some balance is necessary. Some… repayment, maybe? Nothing too big.”

Hina rubbed the back of her head, where her brown hair was tied back, high and tight. Out of the way and not interfering with her sleek profile that cut through the water with such power and force. “Uh, Angie, I’m sorry, but I’m not really, you know, uh, looking. For that kinda thing…”

‘Silly! Atua and Angie both understand that everyone moves at their own pace. In time, everyone will come to see Atua’s light, buut for now, he just has a simple request. Please give all of Angie’s friends who want swim lessons, some swim lessons!”

“Lessons?” Hina blinked.

“Literally who in the world better than the Ultimate Swimming Pro?”

Shuichi shook his head. “Angie, I’ll be okay, I-”

“No, that’s a freaking awesome idea!” Hina said, popping back out of the water and giving yet another truly astonishing, and absurd, display in the process. And threatening to invalidate the last half-hour of toweling and drying and showering, causing the Black Hats to back away. “Like, of course! Everyone should know how to swim anyhow, and I’d love to help out! So, who’s up for Hina’s Swimming 101?”

Tenko raised her hand, meeker now that she had a minor brush with her own vulnerability as a person. “Neo-Aikido is the art of self-improvement, s-so Tenko can’t back down from this challenge, either.” In fact, she fixed the pool itself with a death glare. It didn’t have Tenko’s usual sound and fury, just the fury part, with a cold stare as her head tilted down slightly. “This was merely round one, water.”

“Great fighting spirit!” Hina said. “Who else needs to learn the marvelous ways of the ocean? Er, swimming pool?”

With significantly less gusto, Shuichi raised his hand, as well.

“Of course I’ll help you, silly,” Hina said, wrapping him on the shoulder. “You’ve gotta be prepared for the next beach party, so you can take Kaede out on the water and get into splash fights and stuff.” Shuichi turned red, and tried to pull down his hat, which provoked a wave of chittering complaints from his passenger up top that he’d honestly forgotten about. “Ohmygosh! One of Gundham’s little friends, right? Aww.”

Shuichi was able to confirm Jun-P’s alleged great intelligence. The hamster decided that the best move was to leap from Shuichi's head, land on Hina’s chest, quite a huge target, and nestle into her cleavage. There was plenty of room there, even with the way the red competition swimsuit hugged and pinched her curves. It flattened them to some degree, compressing her busty figure.

“Hehe! Hey, cut it out! That tickles!”

Shuichi was curious about Tenko’s reaction to that. While there were accusations of the hamster being both degenerate, and a male, it felt more like Tenko was a little quietly jealous of the Deva.

Yeah, there was some of that.

Tough to deny.

Finally, after visibly fretting and worrying, Chihiro arrived at some kind of decision. She narrowed her eyes, clutched her chest, and said, “I w-would also like to learn how to swim, Hina. I wanna get stronger.”

Hina bounced. A lot. “Right on! This is gonna be awesome, we can totally make a Swimming Club or, like, something. Honestly, we don’t need to set hours for meetings that badly, since like. Seriously, if I’m not eating or sleeping, I’m going to be literally right here. All day, every way. For reals. If you don’t see me here, in the restaurant, or in my cabin, then literally start dragging the shorefront for my body.”

“Since you brought it up…” Shuichi frowned thoughtfully. “That does mean you’re going to be spending a lot of time alone out here. Is that okay?”

There went some of that comfortable, warm, friendly mood.

Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Social Butterfly.

Hina sighed and rolled her eyes at the prospect of her being attacked. “Gosh, Shuichi. I was kidding! I’m not worrying over every little thing. That’s not how to live your life to the fullest! In fact, being afraid is no way to live, at all. It’s just like what Kaito said! Monokuma obviously made up all that stuff about traitors to wig us out and get us to start some stupid witch hunt.”

Was it possible that Hina was being too flippant about her own safety?

Or was Shuichi just overlooking something that even the airheaded Ultimate Swimming Pro had easily seen? Just because she thought more with her heart than a supposedly-brilliant mind? Her point was an entirely valid one, and Kaede had confided similar concerns about everyone turning on each other before.

Like at the meeting, where that nearly happened several times in a row.

He managed a friendly smile. “I guess if nothing else, I can say anybody who decides to go in after you, while you’re in the water, is terminally stupid.”

“Exactly! I’ll use water kung-fu to take them out!” Hina proclaimed.

Shuichi grinned.

While Tenko gasped in astonishment. “There’s such a thing as water kung-fu?!”

So, the first official meeting of the Gopher Island Swim Team was set for tonight. Two hours after dinner. And with that, the Black Hats finally said their goodbyes, and moved on.

The sun was nearly overhead. Shuichi was grateful for his own black hat. It wasn’t boiling-hot like he thought tropical islands should be, but it was definitely warm outside. He particularly noticed the difference thanks to being in the air-conditioned Ultimate Swimming Pro Lab for well in excess of half an hour. Then stepping back into the higher humidity and heat of the island’s bountiful nature.

Bountiful really was the word for it. Everything still looked overgrown, although the newly built Lab was pristine.

“U-Um, everyone?” Mikan cleared her throat. “I’m sorry… I acted totally super mega creepy back there, huh…”

It wasn’t something Shuichi could flat-out deny. “I remember that you were really upset about not having anything like medical supplies, Mikan. It’s just to be expected, right?”

“Totally,” Chihiro nodded vigorously.

“Yep yep,” Angie agreed. “If anything, your… intense personality was a super mega help! Right, Tenko?”

Tenko consented to this point, with gusto. “Tenko agrees! In fact, Tenko should be the one apologizing to you, Mikan! She made everyone, especially you, worry!” She stormed over to Mikan, and took her bandaged hands in Tenko’s own, getting right in her face.

“Ah...b-but I also basically made untoward advances towards you kinda… well, events could be interpreted that way… even if CPR is a legitimate and important medical procedure… I’m sure being up close and personal with me was not the most pleasant thing… It was probably the actual worst, right? Like everything about me?”

“No!” Tenko shouted. “Uh, i-it was the opposite! Tenko sure did not mind it!”

Both girls blushed, realized the nature of their situation, and the eyes upon them, and disengaged.

“Ahem… I just did what any responsible person should do… And in a super clumsy and dumb way… I ruined my own clothes too, rather than just asking the Ultimate Swimming Pro to get you out of the water for me...”

Angie interrupted this self-deprecation in a powerful, and very forward, manner.

She hugged Mikan, which resulted in confused and nervous wiggles and noises. However, while the Ultimate Nurse must have been somewhere like twice as big as Angie, she leaned forward into the embrace instead of resisting. Mikan even rested her head against Angie’s dark skin. “E-Eh? M-M-Miss Angie?”

The Ultimate Artist spoke in a serious and low tone, quite a change from her usual approach. “Mikan, you saved one of our dear friends from being hurt. It’s thanks to you, and Atua is very grateful.”

‘H-H-He is?”

“He is. Atua has seen it all, Mikan. All of the good you do for others. And all the times that hasn’t been properly rewarded. And, yes. All of those bad times, too. When other people were very bad to you.”

“Nngh!” Even having it brought up in such a roundabout way triggered Mikan to try and pull away, to flinch, to flee, to panic. To run. But Angie was surprisingly firm in her embrace, and wouldn’t permit that.

“Calm down, Mikan. Calm. Down. Listen to Angie.” Angie’s words were forceful and firm, but not harsh or angry; she maintained a soothing, soft voice, even while her words were demanding. It had quite the effect on Mikan, who obeyed. “There’s only good people here. Atua brought the Ultimates to this island for a reason. Of that I am certain. I think that Usami was right. A lot of us need to heal from what’s happened, and make new friends. And if you let us, we all want to be your friends.” Angie glanced up at everyone. “Right? Is Angie speaking for everyone here, or just herself and Atua?”

Exactly what the heck was anybody going to say then? In that moment? To that question? With Mikan starting to sob openly, her chest heaving as she looked ready to collapse on the spot?

Everyone nodded, and Mikan looked over to each member of the Black Hats, her eyes watering. She spoke in a tiny, frightened little voice. “Atua, Angie, everyone… Y-Y-Y-You’re all wasting your time. I really appreciate that you all want to be friends, um. But… but… Seriously… Please...”

Angie shook her head. “Nuh uh. Angie is always in touch with Atua, which means Angie doesn’t make mistakes. And Atua is telling me now, in the strongest possible terms, that we should all be friends.” She looked over at the rest of the Black Hats. “Group hug, everyone!”

Mikan certainly didn’t approve of that idea one bit. “Hiiieeeeeee! Please no! H-Have mercy! I’ll do anything… please...”

“Angie, Mikan is clearly uncomfortable,” Shuichi objected, shaking his head. “I’ve let this go on for this long. But Kaito and Kaede put me in charge of this squad. So stop…? Tenko?”

Tenko joined the hug, sandwiching Mikan and ensuring no possible escape from the Friendship. Even the very contact-shy Chihiro moved in, and gently patted Mikan, hugging her.

All eyes were on Shuichi, even Mikan’s. She gave him the human equivalent of puppy eyes. Or, thanks to Shuichi’s memory, kicked-cat eyes.

“Oh, just get in here, you cuck,” Tenko said, scrunching up her face in that particular, and unsettling, manner she did when she was confronted with males.

“But, uh, Tenko, you-”

“Tenko will endure it. This one time.” Every word was a struggle for her to force out. “H-Hurry, Tenko don’t know how long Tenko can hold Tenko back…”

Sheesh.

“And keep those hands where I can see them, or even Atua won’t be able to save you!”

What was Shuuchi getting into? What was he allowing to happen right underneath his nose, despite supposedly being the ‘leader’ of this group?

Why, a big, friendly, warm group hug, of course.

Where only one of the four girls present was wearing more than a swimsuit.

Mikan’s sobbing was the only sound for a while, but that tapered off to silence and the occasional hiccup.

Shuichi pulled away as soon as he judged it was safe to. Followed by Chihiro, who was still none too happy about any of this. She just had such a huge, massive heart. Seeing the open suffering of another person was no different for the Ultimate Programmer than a gaping, open wound would be to Mikan herself. The reaction was automatic, instinctive, and humane.

Honestly, that was the thread that tied these five incredibly different people together. It wasn’t that they happened to get lumped into the same group. It wasn’t that they were even Ultimate students, picked out and praised for their specialized talents and elite skills.

It was their humanitarian perspective.

Empathy and sympathy for others and their concerns, their needs. Even Tenko, who was prickly like a cactus to males and had issues there to address with an actual therapist, if only somebody had that Ultimate talent, showed deep in her core what her real concern was with those over-the-top antics. Protecting others. Angie seemed like she was just a spoiled, wacky girl, but here she was, refusing to back down, standing firm for the idea of helping somebody out who obviously, clearly, needed it.

Shuichi wasn’t going to start giving in to Atua’s will any time soon. He just wasn’t built that way.

It wasn’t even anything personal, he was just skeptical down to the root core of his soul. It was that way for any religion, all his life. Agnostic was the proper term. He wasn’t dead-set against the idea, but he just needed evidence that he never got. From any religious source. Proper evidence, the kind a detective could set his stock in. He privately suspected he never would never get that kind of proof for it, but who knew. Angie certainly wasn’t winning people over with a well-reasoned, logical argument. Evidence and facts? Not so much. Emotional appeals, bare and blatant? Lots of those.

But even he could respect the good that faith could do for others. And the good works they did in the name of that faith. Above it all, he could respect wanting to help somebody out, and wanting to become friends.

It wasn’t much of a choice at all.

He reached up to pet Jun-P, back in his place riding atop the squad’s ‘leader’. “... Of course, _you’re_ part of our squad too. Right, Angie?”

“Nyahaha! That’s the spirit, Shuichi!”

A little smile bloomed on Mikan’s face. “Ehe. Everyone is going to be really, really disappointed.”

Shuichi shook his head. “They can join the club, along with people who call me the Ultimate Detective, or guys who want Tenko’s number. C’mon. We’ve still got a job to do, guys.”

There had to be some clues to find somewhere.

Either left deliberately to help them along whatever path Usami’s ‘rehabilitation’ entailed, or left accidentally.

After all, it wasn’t possible to write a story without putting a little something of yourself in there.

“One down, eleven to go.”

If there was valuable information on this island, they _would_ find it.

Just, uh, probably not at their next stop.

* * *

 **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**YASUHIRO HAGAKURE**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the one-month anniversary of Voyage of Passion and Purpose! Certainly a cause for celebration, and for giving thanks to everyone who's read, left kudos, commented, bookmarked, etc. I'm astonished and blown away by the large, supportive Danganronpa community on this site, and all the attention my work has gotten from so many sources. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how this goddamn one-hundred thousand words got here in the past month, considering that's double the pace you have to go to succeed in National Novel Writing Month in November. But Danganronpa is good, and things went way out of hand and in a way I never quite expected, and here we are.
> 
> And really, the Voyage has only just begun. I look forward to doing so much more with this premise, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I'm enjoying making it.


	14. 1-4. The Ultimate Labs II (Shuichi)

Shuichi was grateful to have a notepad.

Committing thoughts to paper helped prevent the third-rate detective from letting them get trampled by competition.

He started a list of the people who didn’t go exploring, to brood over for clues.

He only got one name down before the Black Hats uncovered the next Ultimate Lab.

Kirumi Tojo, the Ultimate Maid. Not a likely suspect for one of Monokuma’s agents. She’d been nothing but helpful since the moment everyone woke up. The mature, silver-haired woman was probably putting in the footwork and preparation for all three lunches. Shuichi had never met somebody so helpful, yet distant. Kokichi’s snide remarks about not being able to tell which one of their classmates was the Ultimate Robot had some basis.

She didn’t take meals sitting down with everyone else. Kirumi waged a war of stubbornness with Kaito over that, yesterday morning, and won.

A feat which no other Ultimate could yet reproduce.

It just proved what Tenko said. People with endless devotion could be powerful and frightening.

The Ultimates who could take time to explore, because of her hard work, had to pay Kirumi back. Even if she asked for no form of compensation, having designated the entire island as her ‘masters’ until she could return to her real employer. Whoever that was.

Shuichi and the others _had_ to find something good, for her sake.

Even in the most unlikely places.

In stark contrast to Hina’s huge, well-supplied fitness center, the ‘building’ standing before the Black Hats was a tent.

A night-black tent made out of material that reflected the brilliance of the sun and gleamed. It featured cool gold-leaf designs swirling around on the edges. Some of the designs were artistic. Others depicted strange, alien shapes and odd murals of chaos. It was put up with multiple posts and cables.

There were even some window-equivalent flaps. Which were open, and covered with hole-punched sheets to admit air, without admitting insects. There was a good deal of smoke coming out, too, which was also handy for that purpose. The supposed Lab’s size was also well more than a single actual room in a building. It was certainly expansive. It was, all things considered, very nice.

A very nice tent.

Shuichi didn’t feel like the Ultimate Lab system was entirely fair.

Did that reflect the value the university put on various talents? Usami’s own personal feelings on the matter? Another valuable data-point to brood over, if not the kind of place Shuichi would be inclined to hang out at.

Particularly with the wide variety of exotic smells wafting out to them.

Angie clapped in delight. “Oh, how wonderfully quaint! Love the designs! Angie even recognizes some of them, hmm. From Angie’s work she submitted to HPA as part of her portfolio when scouted. Angie wonders, did they pay the fees to be using her work?”

“It’s Hiro,” Shuichi speculated. “So if his Lab has been designed around not just his talent, but his personality, then, uh. I doubt it.”

“Oh no!” Chihiro gasped in shock. “Guys, look! Hiro’s tent is on fire! Look at all that smoke!”

Shuichi and Angie shared a look.

“Hey! Fellow Ultimates!”

And there was the man himself. The Ultimate Clairvoyant, Yasuhiro Hagakure. Emerging from the tent hair-first. There was a lot of it, like some form of dreadlocks. Or like a sea urchin. He had a big, grand smile on his face, looking super relaxed. Like everything in the world was just great.

“Wow, Shuichi.” The taller, far more tanned and built man looked over Shuichi’s friends, and their various states of dress. Particularly with a focus on Mikan and Tenko. Wonder why. “We shoulda had you yesterday, my man. I underestimated your power.”

Tenko fixed both males with a death glare. As if to say that even with all that stuff about friendship, she saw the two of them as being alike. Suddenly, Shuichi understood her concerns about being lumped in with others. Even so, the ‘’’Ultimate’’’ Detective just smiled and laughed as best as he could. Awkwardly. “I dunno about that.”

Hiro put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve come to check out the grand opening, right?”

“Sure,” Shuichi said. “If you want to give us the tour.”

“With no doubts, my man! It’s humble, but packed full of wonders. Artifacts from all over the world! Sources of mystical power! Including some of the **Ancient Lost Treasures**!”

Chihiro blinked. “The what?”

What followed was _like_ a history lesson.

Except those had the benefit of being usually true. Occasionally, even useful or interesting. All benefits that Hiro didn’t decide to include in his stories about the artifacts.

They were pretty. Made of crystal, glass, and even some enticing, glittering gold. Shuichi couldn’t determine what any of them did. Some of their shapes eluded description. He had to admit to being impressed. It was possible the budget for each Lab was similar, but used in different ways. Some of the prices, and stories of how they were collected, printed on little cards besides the items, were astonishing.

It ended with the Black Hats all taking seats on a carpet laid out for them. The chaotic mix of colors and materials formed a rolling sea, where all the currents led to the point where Hiro sat, cross-legged. Shuichi looked around, and quickly spotted at least one of the sources of the thick, acrid smoke that had poor Chihiro and Mikan gasping and choking. Incense and candles provided light even though the ‘windows’ had been drawn.

Shuichi hadn’t worked out whether it was lucky or sad that he was used to far worse smells, from far worse sources, by the time Hiro began. “Okay, guys. This one’s on the house, but I hope I can sell you guys on coming back for some real, heavy-duty voyance of clairs. I mean, I know we’ve all got money troubles of some kind, but man. Student loans were not kind to me.”

“They’re not there to be kind. But so that degenerate, mostly male, old banker pigs can drain everyone dry!” Tenko said, demonstrating that she had strong convictions, and little use for nuance, on a wide variety of topics. Not just gender. Not that Shuichi, or any university student, no matter how fortunate to be able to go to Hope’s Peak Academy on a variety of lucrative scholarships, would disagree with her. “One of the many, many cancers of this ‘modern’ age that my Master taught me to guard against!”

“I know, right?! So I’ve got to scam every yen I can get, so I don’t get left behind!” Hiro declared proudly. To an awkward silence. “... Haha, just kidding, my dude and dudettes. Just a little friendly joke, right?”

“So, you’re going to tell our fortunes?” Shuichi asked.

“I’ll do you one better than that, brother. I won’t just tell your individual futures. I’ll tell everyone’s fortunes! Like, humanity, in one go!”

“Really?” Shuichi asked. “That’s incredible.”

“Totes! As long as I got The Ball with me, I can do anything, and see anything.”

“Nngh… it always comes back to that with you all, doesn’t it…” Tenko grumbled. “Don’t worry, Chihiro. If anything weird starts to happen with his… balls… Tenko will protect you!”

“Thanks?” The Ultimate Programmer might have not been comfortable with how close Tenko was sitting. Or how she doted on Chihiro like the smaller girl was a cute animal. However, she certainly wasn’t going to vocalize that.

“Okay then. I’m seeing a world… _bathed in flames_ , my duders. Like, totally covered. A world aflame, yeah! That’s what I see, clear as a three-hundred-million yen crystal ball. Through it, even!”

“Tenko is going to pretend she didn’t hear that.”

Shuichi’s hand was up to his mouth as he too peered into The Ball, to little effect. Hiro’s words, though, caught his imagination on fire as much as the world supposedly was. “Hm. Probably a metaphor for warfare or conflict...”

“No, dude! I’m literally seeing a towering inferno! The entire world is engulfed in it, right now! As we speak!”

Shuichi looked around. “The whole world is on fire?”

“Yeah! With no doubt! It looks like the sun, dude!”

Shuichi took another look around, just to make sure. Then he looked up at the sun through the flap of the tent, to compare. “If the oceans were on fire, wouldn’t we see it?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, everything looks okay to me.”

He pointed out towards the marvelous, beautiful island paradise all around them. It looked pristine, as if never touched by humans. Even if in other places, buildings could be found. The ocean was clean and a beautiful blue, and the sky was mostly clear today.

“Uh, well. Uh. Listen here, bud! You’re just trying to make fun of me, right?! I know you skeptical types, you’re all alike!” Hiro pointed accusingly. “You have no idea how many times I’ve been slandered on some podcast or website, with skep- in the name. Every time! Can’t you all be a little more original? Or is being creative not ‘scientific’ enough, huh?!”

Shuichi put up his hands against this sudden assault. “No, that’s not it, Hiro. I’m just not sure if all the details you’re seeing are necessarily, uh. Accurate?”

“So I’m a liar too, huh?! I won’t take this kinda abuse in my own Ultimate Lab! I think you’re cruising for a lifetime ban from this fine establishment, dude!”

“Ban?! Hiro, I’m really not trying to pick a fight. I’m glad you agreed to give us a demonstration of your Ultimate talent-”

“Out!”

Shuichi left, pulling down his hat so far that he couldn’t see where he was going.

He heard Hiro’s voice. _“You ladies are still welcome to hang out, of course!”_

The Allegedly Ultimate Detective was followed, moments later, by his friends. To his own surprise. “Guys?”

“We’re all _female_ ,” Tenko observed. “Not dirty ‘guys’. So stop, that’s insulting. In case it wasn’t obvious, though, we’re not going to put up with anybody treating you like that. Unless it’s me.”

Mikan nodded. “Mister Hiro… probably needs some time to calm down… I think…”

“Atua says that Shuichi is right to question superstitions!” Angie proclaimed. “Most importantly! We all agreed, we’re friends now. Friends help each other out.”

Shuichi smiled. He lifted the brim of his hat, to more complaints from Mirage Golden Hawk Jun-P riding on top. “Thanks, everyone. I get a little freaked out when somebody’s yelling at me. Uh. I’m not very, you know. Brave.”

“That much is evident,” Tenko agreed.

“So I wasn’t thinking very clearly.”

_“Chichi! We’re classmates, right? You’re not gonna abandon me like everyone else, right? C’mon! I know something’s on your mind! I’ll give you an extra special reading!”_

Chihiro quivered as she came out of the tent, visibly sweating. “S-Sorry, Hiro! If my friends are leaving, uh, I’ve got to stick with them! The Captains told us to stay together!” At least she could breathe again.

 _“Oh,well, I guess that’s fair enough._ Hey! Come on, guys! I was just kidding with all that! Just a joke! Just a prank, bro! Shuichi! Please bring the cuties back again...”

Ten to go.

Given the size of the island, they just needed to follow the road for a minute, or less, to hit their next destination.

An actual building this time, painted over with red and white painted planks. Tenko vibrated. “Look! That roof design! Very traditional Japanese wooden architecture. What sort of buildings are made like that anymore? Could it be?! Could it finally be, a dojo suitable for the glory of Neo-Aikido-”

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**HIYOKO SAIONJI**

* * *

 

“Why?! Angie, please ask Atua why he can’t just give Tenko a place to practice! Does Tenko not hate males enough? Is Tenko's grudging tolerance of Shuichi holding me back?! Touching males is intolerable, Master taught me. But is associating with them sinful, as well?!”

Angie shook her head. “Tenko. Listen to Angie. If associating with males, and touching them, a lot, was that bad? Angie would not have such spiritual alignment. But clearly, Angie does. Also, Atua is probably male.”

“A good point! Tenko isn’t sure if Neo-Aikido power works like Atua. But it’s something to think about! Shuichi! You’re still not the worst, for now!”

“Thanks.”

“E-Everyone…” Mikan fidgeted. “I just remembered, um. I need to be literally anywhere else but here-”

“I thought I smelled _dead fish!”_

“Oh no… please…”

“Or rather, a dead mouse dressed up like, well. Right now, she’s not even dressed up to play nurse to appeal to sick otaku fetishes. I guess that swimsuit would do the job though, huh? What a slutty bitch, whoa.”

The living sandblaster, herself. The blonde pigtailed Ultimate Traditional Dancer, Hiyoko. She looked very young, but was apparently the same age as everyone else. Even though she looked like she belonged back in high school. At most.

And behaved like she needed to go back to preschool-

“Good morning, Hiyoko!” Angie said, cheerfully. Her smile was unfazed. “It must feel pretty good to get your Ultimate Lab on the first go, hm?”

“Well, it is nice. They made it just for me, so it couldn’t be anything but nice!” It looked brand new. The Exisals had a degree of fine control Shuichi didn’t expect. They set up these constructions in a time that humans would balk at, too.

“Lots of annoying people were crawling around and trying to get inside. But Usami made locks for it, too! Just what the doctor ordered for annoying types~” Hiyoko smirked. “Like that shit doctor with you. Well, nurse. Not even a real doctor, huh? Nurses really are kinda pointless, huh?”

She was just saying obviously-untrue tripe to try and provoke an over-the-top reaction from Mikan. A reaction that the Ultimate Nurse was absolutely, reliably, going to give to her, to feed the cycle.

“Is your lab locked right now?” Shuichi asked, to interrupt.

“You wanna snoop around too?” Hiyoko tapped her chin. “Mahiru was taking photos of everywhere anyhow. Makes all this stuff about exploring seem mega pointless, huh? I guess I could allow it, though. Oh, one condition!” Her cute, childish expression changed to a glower. “Pig Barf over there has to stay outside. I don’t want to have to fumigate my own Ultimate Lab, like, the day I get it.”

Mikan whimpered helplessly.

“Hiyoko, there was some discussion of this. Atua really thinks you should be nicer to everyone,” Angie said with a look of concern. “Especially to Mikan. If you keep going this way…” Angie leaned forward, her blue eyes hooded, and drilling holes into Hiyoko. “ _... you'll get punished, yeah?”_

Hiyoko was getting a taste of her own medicine, as a sweet and cute girl turned sinister and threatening. She put up a brave front. “Tch. It’s a free country, right?”

“Actually, we have no idea,” Shuichi said.

“Tenko finds your terms unacceptable. We stick together!”

Hiyoko tilted her head. “Eh? I won’t unlock the lab unless you leave that dumbass out here! Seriously, I don’t just bully her _just_ to get my kicks. If she falls over at the wrong time, which she does fucking on the regular, it could damage my Lab! You all gonna pay for that, huh?”

Did she only agree to show them around her Ultimate Lab just to ban Mikan? Did her hatred extend that far? If so, why? They all just met, right? Were they like Makoto and Sayaka? Did Hiyoko privately want to show off her lab? She seemed proud of it.

Time to run a test.

“Come on, everyone. We’ve confirmed that this lab belongs to the Ultimate Traditional Dancer. Mahiru has photos. Our job’s done anyhow. Nine more to go.”

The Black Hats got back on the road as Shuichi said. They were followed.

“Hey! Is that really okay? Didn’t you walk all this way to check out my lab?”

“Like you said, it’s pointless,” Angie hummed. “Really, we’re just filling out our mini-maps. Like this is one of those RPGs.”

Chihiro stared at Angie. “You know what video games are?”

“Why wouldn’t Angie?”

 _“... Guys…”_ Hiyoko whined.

“I expected you to not be much into computers or technology? Sorry...”

“Nyahaha, that’s fine. Angie’s people do live a little more… naturally than most. But Angie has a computer! Angie even knows how computers work!”

“That puts you in the upper percentile of even people from mainland Japan,” Chihiro smiled brightly. “Ehe.”

“That’s why it’s super cool that you can use magic, just like Himiko!”

“Don’t you fuckers ignore me! I’ll demolish Mikan over here with my dancing-style combat moves!”

“ _Eeeeeee!_ Have mercy! I’m not ignoring you like they are…”

“Um, magic?”

“Yes! Computer Magic. Angie knows all about it!”

Chihiro had a thousand-yard stare as she walked alongside Shuichi. Looking up at him, pleading for help. He turned around instead. “The Black Hats stick together, and we’re not going to let you bully Mikan. Understood?”

“Tch. I’ll just find somebody who doesn’t have a bunch of annoying butt-buddies. There’s plenty of weaklings to pick from. Like that magician bitch you mentioned- whoa!”

“Can Tenko flip her?” Tenko asked.

 _After_ judo-flipping Hiyoko into the dirt.

“OW! Fuck! Shitty b-bitch! Let go of my arm!” As it turned out, Hiyoko had some pretty well-done, and sharp, nails. Tenko was compelled to withdraw.

The acerbic blonde was driven into a rage by the sudden attack, and tears came quickly. Even if they were being played up, Hiyoko’s childlike appearance lent credibility to her plight.

She threw a tantrum right there on the road.

Shuichi had to admit, maybe things got out of hand.

Angie sighed. “Tenko, please ask next time. Beforehand.”

Tenko froze up. “Uh, s-sorry. Tenko reacted on instinct.”

Shuichi leaned forward. “Hiyoko, are you okay-”

_“I knew it.”_

“Huh?”

Hiyoko’s tears were gone, and her face was a mask of contempt as she glared up at Tenko with those ominous golden eyes. “That strawberry. You really like her, don’t you? Got a crush?”

“What? N-No, it’s not like that-”

“ _Shame she really couldn’t give two shits if you were alive or dead._ In fact, she finds your attention _annoying_ … and you know that, huh?”

Shuichi looked between Tenko and Hiyoko. Something was wrong. Normally, when a stronger person beat up a smaller, weaker person, the power dynamics were a certain way. Shuichi knew that from personal, painful past experiences.

Here, the power dynamic was the one that got flipped. Tenko was driven back. In fact, she fell over, while Hiyoko rose to her feet and loomed over her.

“No, wait, it’s even worse than that. You know that Himiko doesn’t _dislike_ you. She just doesn’t care. It’s like she’s totally given up already. That’s what you think, huh? That’s what bothers you?”

“What’s going on?” Mikan asked, even more freaked out by the dancer than her usual. “W-What is this? Shuichi?”

Shuichi put his hand over his mouth. It didn’t take long to realize what was going on. The very fact that this occurred to him, so quickly, was proof. “I’ve got it. Tenko… does your combat reading work both ways?”

“Nnngh… it shouldn’t. Tenko still has much to learn about Neo-Aikido.”

She had much to learn about a martial art she invented?

“Hiyoko was able to see inside Tenko’s heart.” The fighter bit her lip and looked aside. She balled up a fist, but not to strike with furious power. She just tensed up because Hiyoko was saying things that might have struck very close to home. “So, it’s… true. All of it.”

“Like reading a poorly-written, one-dimensional book,” Hiyoko said, giggling darkly. “You’re so transparent. I could have guessed most of that shit without that weird thing you did. I wonder what Himiko would say if she learned the extent of your interest… Would she return it, or be fucking disgusted? Hey, hey. I wonder?”

“... How would Mahiru feel to learn about your crush on her?” Tenko asked, voice flat, as she glared up from the ground. For once, somebody looked up to Hiyoko. Although the expression was cold fury. “You know she looks at you like a little sister type, not in the way you might hope. You want to make it more than that, but…”

“Mahiru seems like a super _traditional_ girl,” Angie finished for her. While Tenko’s anger was evident, and she was barely holding it together to fight back, Angie herself was merry. She could have been discussing a brutal crime scene, or Christmas, and sound largely the same. To Shuichi, that made her more intimidating. “Way more than usual in this day and age.”

Shuichi nodded, adding on with his own observations. He couldn’t keep as steady as Angie during this tense standoff, but he managed okay. Kinda. “S-She sure spent a lot of time with Rantaro yesterday, at the Ultimate Beach Party.”

Hiyoko stared in horror at the Black Hats, who were living up to their names. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Angie gripped her by the shoulder, firmly. “Angie told you before, Hiyoko. If you keep going as you are, you’ll be punished. Even if Atua doesn’t lift a finger, his chosen ones down here on Gopher Island can still do plenty. So, like. Maybe we shouldn’t fight?”

“Because you’ll lose,” Tenko finished coldly, getting to her feet and brushing dirt off her athletic green swimsuit.

Hiyoko glowered at them for a moment, but then her dmeanor shifted, with the same speed as the weather last night. “Fine! Truce! Sheesh. Hey, Mikan, you found yourself some real weirdos. I guess it fits!” She skipped off back towards her Ultimate Lab. “C’mon in, if you like! I’m not going to do a dance or anything for you rejects. But you actually fought back! That’s way more interesting than giving me a damn lecture, or whimpering in the corner.”

Shuichi sighed, watching her go. “We’ve captured Hiyoko’s interest. Great.”

“It’s better than abandoning our friend. Either of them~” Angie said. Of everyone, she looked the least bothered by anything, as if she had a set of impenetrable armor.

“Tenko is sorry about that whole… scene. And that you had to hear any of that.” The martial artist couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. Shame was clear on her expression. Shame for letting things get that far, and no doubt, shame for having a bunch of people hear some of her innermost feelings.

Shame at her weakness.

“We should be the ones apologizing!” Chihiro shook her head. “We heard some private things there. But, uh, e-everyone has, you know. Stuff they don’t want others to find out. So your secret’s safe with us. R-Right, everyone?”

“Right,” Shuichi nodded. “Nobody here thinks you’re weird or anything, Tenko.”

“.... I can’t believe a male could be so sensitive-”

“For being _that way_ , at least. That doesn't excuse all the other weirdness.” Tenko glared. “I mean, I am the Ultimate Detective. I knew you were a wierdo from the start.”

Shuichi had a moment to wonder if he’d gone too far in some places. The girls looked at him in fear for his skinny, pasty life. The result should have been as obvious as Kokichi’s taunts at the meeting.

Not this time.

Tenko just gave him a rueful smile.

“C’mon! Angie didn’t care much before, but being denied a thing makes Angie… excited to get it. So c’mon, c’mon.” The dark-skinned artist could have just been seized by one of her strange, fey moods. Or she might have been trying to get the group back on track so they didn't sit around and have yet another pity party.

A very real danger.

Hiyoko’s lab, so bright and elegant on the outside, had a dark, moody interior. Shuichi was not surprised. Even so, a chill ran up his spine as he regarded the old-style paper lanterns, which gave off the only light in the enclosed theater area. The central stage was emphasized with larger torches to either side, burning with massive, open flames that tossed embers and smoke skywards towards the high ceiling. Galleries for spectators were provided, but most were in shadow. People could have been sitting in them at that moment, and Shuichi wouldn’t know.

Behind the performance area, they found a backstage full of musical instruments, Japanese clothing in the most traditional styles, and ornate ceremonial knives. Distressingly, scratch marks absolutely covered the wood grain planks of both floor and walls.

Hiyoko claimed the room was like that when she found it, with her cheeks puffed out.

Dried blood splatters all over would have completed the ominous set. Thankfully, the Exisals hadn’t seen fit to add that level of detail. Shuichi remembered Hajime’s story about Hiyoko’s little introduction scene. He’d privately suspected they were going to find some dead animals in there.

Fortunately for the brown-and-white sleepy hamster riding along, there was nothing of the sort. Shuichi also had another bit of evidence for Jun-P’s intelligence, now. He’d been keeping well out of sight since Hiyoko appeared. He emerged from the bushes when the Black Hats left, parting on amicable terms, more or less, with the island’s barely-latent psychopath.

It was doubtful that, among all the Ultimates, Monokuma would want to use somebody like Hiyoko as an agent. She still had a darkness within her that was obvious from just a ten-second chat. Much less exploring an area patterned around her attitude and behavior. Shuichi started another list in his notepad, and she was the first entry.

Violence against animals for no particular reason. Unchecked aggression and omnidirectional hostility. An affinity for sharp objects, like the ornate knives openly hanging on the walls.

Shuichi considered sending a note to Kaito asking if he’d ever seen “Making A Murderer” before. But if he did send a report, he’d be obligated to talk about what happened at the previous two Ultimate Labs as well. Kaede might hear back about a lot of it, and the result would be to accomplish nothing, except more tension in the group.

He decided to just keep going down the road with the others. Much to the delight of his messenger, Jun-P, who went back to sleep again.

The next destination, on the other side of the road past some more clumps of tropical palm trees, was another imposing, modern square building. Its architecture didn’t suggest much aside from that. The only real clue was that its profile and shape. A big dish on the roof, said ‘TV studio’ to him.

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**TSUMUGI SHIROGANE**

* * *

 

“There’s no way that dish works,” Chihiro said glumly. Everyone stared up at the one-story black building unfolding its boxy arms before them.

Shuichi reached up to pet Jun-P, deep in thought. He was. The hamster was not. Probably. “Why make it in the first place, if Usami can’t allow contact to or from the outside world?”

“Decoration!” Angie suggested. “Style points are important. Like the signs of a struggle in Hiyoko’s lab. Or all those lovely designs that HPA stole from my portfolio!” Definitely not bitter about that, nope.

“Does anybody else think that Tsumugi’s lab looks like it could… um… turn into a huge robot?” Mikan asked. “... Uu, that’s dumb, isn’t it…”

Shuichi stared at it. He stared and stared, and so did everyone else. “It kinda does? But there’s no way that’s right. If Usami wouldn’t give us a working TV, what are the odds she gave us a huge robot?”

“Best not to rule anything out,” Tenko said, shaking her head. “Let’s go see if anybody’s home!”

Which Tenko proceeded to do on the windowless front door of the Ultimate Cosplayer’s Lab. As with Hiyoko’s lab, Tsumugi’s featured locks, and the doors resisted efforts to just push them open.

Tenko was not one to give up when a situation was hopeless.

Shuichi noted there were no windows of any kind on this place. He walked the perimeter of the building, which wasn’t nearly the same size as an actual TV studio. It was like the others. While he located an AC unit rumbling away in the back, there were no other features. Just black-painted concrete, with the occasional streak of bright red paint in an unknown pattern. He finished his orbit, and came back to Tenko at the front door.

Still going at it like the door was male.

Or a drum.

“Uh, Tenko,” Shuichi said, “Maybe Tsumugi isn’t here. We did take a while-”

_Click._

The door cracked open. There was the blue-haired mistress of cosplay, Tsumugi. Given what the nature of her lab had to entail, Shuichi thought she was wearing some kind of costume. Really, though, the white button-up shirt she had on was part of her normal clothing. She just lacked her usual blue jacket over it. It gave her a different, more working-class appearance. Like a secretary or intern. She adjusted her glasses, and peered at a suddenly-sheepish Tenko, and the always-sheepish Mikan.

Oh, yeah, the swimsuits.

“Can I help you?” She asked, in an icy tone of voice that made it clear she couldn’t. And wasn’t particularly interested in doing so. It wasn’t anything approaching open hostility. Like everything about Tsumugi, it was more a general disinterest in reality.

Shuichi wasn’t the most social person in the world, in spite of recent developments. He could definitely relate. “Hey, Tsumugi. Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s okay,” She replied. “I’m kinda getting used to it. I did assume that if I stopped answering the door, people would go away.” Her blue-grey eyes went back over to Tenko, who was frozen, and quickly turning interesting shades of red. “It worked great, but only on those who aren’t persistent. Or strong enough. That sound wasn’t me opening the lock, it was the lock shattering.” The pointed to the floor of the doorway, which was covered in bits of debris.

The Ultimate Aikido Master bowed so deeply, Shuichi expected her to topple forward. “Sorry! Tenko is sorry! Tenko will gladly pay you back for that, Miss Shirogane!”

“With what? H-Hey!” She grabbed Shuichi’s head, and forced him to bow, as well. “I didn’t break anything!”

Angie saw an opportunity when Tsumugi smiled a bit from those antics, and went for it. “We’re just looking around like everyone else, Moogs. Could we check out your Lab, pretty please?”

“I consent,” Tsumugi sighed. “On the condition that you never call me that again.”

“Agreed!” Angie replied, clapping her hands over her head in delight. “Nyahaha. Plus, since the lock is gone, you can’t stop us anyway!”

“That hadn’t escaped my notice,” Tsumugi said, her tone exceptionally dry. She withdrew from the doorway to let everyone pile in.

There was far more going on within than what Shuichi suspected from the mostly plain, stoic exterior. It wasn’t divided into rooms, but instead just a huge studio. One portion featured a lot of storage, gear, and cameras, along with rack upon rack of clothing. Bright rainbow assortments of colors, very distinctive and often copyright-sensitive material, overflowed. Shuichi couldn’t recognize a tenth of the outfits displayed. The most common ones, that had bled through pop cultural osmosis into the wider world, stuck out.

The selection was incredible, and while the vast majority of the clothing was from fictional works, he saw some more ‘normal’ selections available, too. Shuichi wondered. If Tsumugi’s clothing range was focused on fictional characters, would Junko’s Ultimate Lab open up a wider general clothing selection?

In another section, near the back of the lab, were Tsumugi’s sets. Just like in TV shows, the Exisals made the parts a camera would see. A mechanism to shift scenes around was available on just a few moment’s notice. In fact, the scene shifted before their eyes. Anything from a plain, hardwood floor, an elegant European castle, a dusty street from the Wild West, or the bridge of some sci-fi spaceship. Countless more.

Shuichi tried to keep track of them, but soon gave up. For all he knew, the Lab was advanced enough to build new ones to user specifications.

So far, everything had been more or less expected. In the information age, top cosplayers were no less than celebrities, whether or not they were prepared for it. However, Shuichi would have never guessed that Tsumugi’s lab would feature a mini-bar. Complete with enough stools to sit the entire Black Hats and then some.

“Well, while you’re all here, can I get you anything?” Tsumugi offered, gliding into place behind the counter with practiced familiarity and comfort. Some of the frost had gone away, and her question sounded genuine.

The others were hesitant to just start ordering things in the middle of what was supposed to be a mission. Angie was delighted. “Do you have any extra-strong red wine?”

Mikan fidgeted. “W-W-We’re all over twenty, right? So this is like, legal? Right Shuichi?”

Shuichi laughed. “Uh, maybe we should stick to non-alcoholic offerings, everyone. Lunch is in less than an hour.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Tsumugi retrieved a pitcher. “Some tea, perhaps?”

Everyone but Mikan accepted a glass. Angie accepted much more.

Shuichi sighed in simple pleasure as he partook. Cold ice tea, after walking in the sun and tropical warmth all morning? A chance to rest his feet and relax instead of arguing with somebody? While he was at Hina’s lab, there had been plenty of factors keeping him awake. Now, he felt like a cup mostly poured out.

There was a bit there. He wasn’t going to pass out. If he allowed himself to relax and close his eyes, he could feel it. It was more the knowledge that he could sleep, than any risk he actually would.

There was a thunk, and Shuichi opened his eyes. To see Jun-P deposited in a less than dignified pose, even for a hamster, on the counter. Tsumugi was startled by this, and dropped a glass. Which Tenko dove for. Over the counter, which was full of glasses, some of which were full of drinks.

The mini-bar was the site of a mini-catastrophe.

Fortunately, Tsumugi had a broom on hand to collect the bits of jagged glass. Her black boots had no trouble crunching the shards underfoot. She morbidly cleaned up after a mess she started, but somebody else made so much worse.

Tenko adopted another dogeza stance, prostrating herself in humiliated apology before the Ultimate Cosplayer. Who didn’t even stop to acknowledge the gesture.

“Tenko is so very sorry!”

“It’s okay. None of us have any money, anyhow. So don’t worry about paying me back for all these nice glasses. And all the tea, for that matter. And the lock.” Tsumugi said, her voice low and flat and thin. “We’re just lucky nobody was hurt.”

“Tenko will find a way, Miss Shirogane! Somehow! Tenko is deeply in your debt, and honor demands it be repaid! It need not be with money. Anything. Do you need a male beaten savagely? Is one of them harassing you because of your looks, like all the swine always do? Do you need wooden boards kicked and broken?”

The range of marketable skills for an Ultimate Aikido Master was pretty thin, huh.

Then again, Shuichi had run across plenty of cases where Tenko could have gotten that kind of work from scorned women.

“Hmm.” Tsumugi finished the clean-up job quickly. When she was done, she looked Tenko over. Her powerful, athlete’s figure was still folded in the tight dogeza, head down. “... You know, there might be something.”

Tenko leapt to her feet so quickly that Tsumugi was nearly hit in the process. “Anything.”

Tsumugi looked over at Mikan, and rubbed her chin. “I’m guessing you visited Hina’s pool, perhaps on accident?”

“Correct,” Tenko nodded. “... Which, uh. Tenko may have also caused.”

“I am shocked,” Tsumugi said, raising her hands. “Too shocked for words. So, is that why you and Mikan traded in clothing for swimsuits?”

“Correct,” Mikan replied, quivering. She recounted all that had happened, to bring the Black Hats where they were, with three of their members in swimsuits. Two non-voluntarily.

Shuichi was impressed at that quick deduction. It honestly wasn’t something he expected from the Ultimate Cosplayer. But her lab was proof that Tsumugi was full of surprises.

“Hm. So! There’s no way your clothes will be dry before lunch. You could go all the way back to your cabins and change. And thus abandon your ‘mission’. Or… you could wear some of the clothes I’ve got here.”

“In other words…” Shuichi said.

“Yes.” Now, Tsumugi's blank expression, was replaced by one that was growing familiar.

That of a person gripped by fanaticism.

_**“Cosplay."** _

After what happened, there really wasn’t any way for Tenko and Mikan to refuse such a generous offer.

Much as they tried.

It was a testament to the speed and skill of the Ultimate Cosplayer that the three girls were only gone ten minutes. When they returned, they were dressed up as characters from a famous video game.

One of them was also a guy.

With spiky blonde hair, a muscular physique, and strong jawline. His outfit, purple turtleneck with an armored shoulder pad, gave it away just as much as that iconic hairstyle. Or the massive buster sword carried slung on his back, which was at least as tall as he was.

“... Cloud?!” Chihiro gasped, in awe.

“Cloud Strife,” He replied, in a deep, serious voice. “Ex-SOLDIER, now with AVALANCHE. Here to save the Planet. And here’s my famous romantic love triangle. Even though the most obvious solution was just for all three of us to get together.” Cloud Strife(?) looked sideways, in just exactly the same way that Tsumugi Shirogane did.

To Cloud(?)’s left was an equally famous character. Brown hair, braided down her back, long bangs, and a maroon-red jacket over a nice dress. She wielded a staff that was supposed to have great power in it. It had slots where glowing bits of materia were inserted to impart even more. While her outward appearance was fiction, she was easier to identify. Matching Mikan’s height, weight, and build exactly.

Quivering like a leaf.

“A-A-Aerith Gainsborough, the Ultimate Nur- Er, Ultimate… Cetra?”

“Good enough,” Cloud(!) agreed.

“Tch. The ‘obvious’ solution was for Tifa and Aerith to ditch that emo scum, and go off together to be happy… Ahem. Hiyah!” To the other side, the girl performed a spin-kick. Suspenders, white shirt, black skirt, long hair, and red eyes. There was no way to mistake her figure for anyone but Tenko, who seemed uniquely well-equipped to do this cosplay. “Tifa Lockhart, protector of women everywhere from the influences of big males and degenerate corporations!”

Cloud(!!!) pushed up a pair of non-existent glasses. “That’s mostly accurate, oh well. So, what do you all think?~”

Angie clapped. Chihiro followed suit.

Shuichi blinked. “... Tsumugi? Is that you?”

The very obviously manly man, who in fact towered over Shuichi himself, nodded. “The number of characters that I can’t cosplay… are exactly zero. Age, race, gender? Whether they died in bullshit ways in the source material? No barriers to my power.”

Cloud(??) opened his arms wide. “This… is the Ultimate Real Fiction!”

It blew Hina’s performance out of the metaphorical water. In fact, it blew away a significant chunk of what Shuichi knew as reality.

“But… how?! You’ve changed so much. Even assuming you can alter your voice, face, gender… how do you do it so quickly? You were gone ten minutes, I’ve been checking my Hope Pad.”

Cloud(?!?!) shrugged. “I’m very talented.”

“Well, that’s plain to see!” Shuichi realized what he’d just said, and he pulled his hat down low. “Uh. You all look pretty good.” Mikan fluffed, turning red over the generic compliment.

Tenko scrunched up her face.

After that awe-inspiring display of her skills, Tsumugi(?) grew tired of Shuichi trying to use ‘logic’ or ‘understand things’. She quickly ushered them out of her lab, and back out into the glare of noon daylight straight overhead.

“I’d parade around with you guys, but I need to soak up all the Alone Rays I can before lunchtime. You two, please show off far and wide! And tell anybody who wants to get into cosplay to come to my lab later. Other people wearing my work is as satisfying to me as doing it myself, y’know?~”

Shuichi didn't know that, or anything. Or which way was up, or down. Fortunately, the dirt road only had two directions, and they just came from one.

“Let’s just get as far as we can before lunch!” Angie said. “Ah, what a super duper interesting day so far! I hope every day on Gopher Island is this interesting, guys!”

Shuichi sincerely hoped the opposite.

The road beckoned them forward.

To discover the next structure, which was the absolute embodiment of a generic design. Shuichi was no student of architecture. He couldn’t have made a ‘generic type’ of building if asked. However, what he saw fit perfectly. It was a rectangle of concrete, beige paint, and had no signs.

Save for the one by the road.

* * *

 **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**THE ULTIMATE** **IMPOSTER**

* * *

 

“Hmm.” Angie poked at her chin with the handle of her paintbrush. “Shuichi, does this one seem… weird to you?”

Shuichi’s first instinct was to make a joke. But honestly, he couldn’t deny it. “Every other sign we’ve seen has merely given a name. Of course, the larger issue here is.... we don’t know any Ultimate ‘Imposter’, do we?”

Silence.

Possibilities raced through Shuichi’s mind, faster than he could keep track of them. He paused, caught in a mental loop involving driving a car to hit imaginary hookers.

Tenko stepped forward. “It’s getting obvious when you ‘lock up’. Thinking gets us nowhere! Action is the only way! Specifically, this action.” She knocked on the door, this time exercising something resembling human restraint. Nothing broke, and nobody emerged, after minutes of waiting. “Nngh! Tenko, er, Tifa must resort to her… final move.”

“Not that!” Mikan-Aerith gasped, clasping her hands together. “Y-Y-Your limit break?!”

“Yes.” Tenko wound up… only to gently push the door open. It obeyed, creaking on rusty metal hinges. Swinging open to reveal that the interior was pitch-black. “Huh, that worked?”

“So it did.” Shuichi pulled out his Hope Pad. “Nobody’s home. Somebody, try to find the-” Sets of overhead floodlights leapt to life, but not in response to a switch. The building, which looked like a warehouse or industrial facility more than any kind of lab, was empty. Except for loads of gear suited to a soldier’s loadout.

Not including guns or other deadly weapons, thankfully. However, there were night-vision goggles, self-defense kits, and a variety of other, similar tactical items scattered around the bare concrete floor.

Looking exactly as they would if somebody took things from the cardboard boxes. Shuichi couldn’t hope to guess what was taken. All he could do was assess what was left. It was still enough to make him write a note immediately, with a full inventory of the supplies, and his analysis.

Chihiro made the discovery that took the cake, though.

She pulled an overflowing clothing rack towards the Black Hats. These outfits, while just as distinctive and colorful as Tsumugi’s fare, were not the sort of things that fictional characters wore.

“Everyone’s clothing. As in, all the Ultimates.” Himself included, down to extra copies of his hat.

“There’s more of the same scattered around and piled in boxes,” Chihiro said. “But uh, y-yeah. Just what the heck is going on, guys?”

Was somebody lying about their talent? Trying to hide among them? Pretending to be somebody else?

One of Monokuma’s agents?

Or somebody who, just for instance, had an ‘evil clone’ walking around? For that matter, Shuichi had no way to say which Byakuya Togami was legitimate.

If either were.

What of the four amnesiacs, who claimed not to remember their own talents?

Shuichi could only assume that Mahiru took exhaustive photos, and could have already delivered her report. Even so, he sent Jun-P with his own findings posthaste. He stepped back out onto the road afterwards. “Tenko, you’re right. Sitting around, wondering, and worrying won’t solve anything. For now… we’ve got to see if any more of the Ultimate Labs contradict what we know about this island. Or each other.”

Angie giggled. “Before we leave, girls. This is a good chance to get some of your own clothing on… if you wanted to.”

Tenko and Mikan shared a look. “T-Tenko promised to wear this cosplay, so she’ll carry through on that.” Mikan just nodded in agreement, showing her own resolve. Maybe the two of them were just growing to like the outfits.

The group moved along. This time, the next Lab wasn’t forthcoming. They had to venture further and further down the path. Into the jungle.

Until they reached a small canyon, which the path kept going over by way of a long rope bridge. That was far different from any other feature they’d seen on the island so far, but Shuichi spotted a branch that pulled off the path before the bridge started, and instead headed down a sloping hill. Towards what looked like a campground at the base, within the rocky, arid ravine.

The view was spectacular, and the trip down the path wasn’t too difficult, The canyon wasn’t gigantic, merely large. As they approached the campground, though, Shuichi saw obstacle course items. Of the kind usually put on athletic tracks. Scattered all over the valley. Even on the rock walls themselves, along with handholds.

In terms of absolute budget, maybe other things were more impressive. This took the cake on sheer presentation, scope, and scale. It drove home the size of the islands they were trapped on. Shuichi barely bothered to read the sign.

* * *

 **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**AKANE OWARI**

* * *

 

Tenko was blown away, just like everyone else. Perhaps more. “E-Even if Tenko hasn’t found a dojo yet… maybe… just maybe… L-Look, everyone! A four-sided ring! Maybe Tenko could ask Miss Owari to train-”

“Heh. So ya noticed that, huh?”

The voice came from behind them, low, but still distinctly feminine. Shuichi turned around with the others, and saw the Ultimate Gymnast, Akane, standing above them on the path back up. Towering, with her height, imposing stature, and the hillside to her advantage. She had her arms folded across her chest, and wore an expression that Shuichi could only describe with a single word.

Hungry.

She locked her brown eyes on Tenko-Tifa.

“I don’t know who ya are, or how you got on this island.” Akane cracked her knuckles and neck, which sounded like gunshots. “Coach Nekomaru said I can’t fight none of the Ultimates unless they give me ‘permission’. But he told me real clear, if I see anybody who’s not an Ultimate on this island…”

She grinned. Shuichi saw sharp teeth. Actual claws. An aura of visible energy around her as Akane powered up. _“... Then I can practice on them as much as I damn well please!_ Get ready, white-shirt. You look strong. And when I see somebody who’s real strong, _I just gotta fight em!_ Right here, right now!”

Shuichi sighed. “Akane, hold on. This isn’t some intruder, it’s just Tenko wearing cosplay.”

“ _Cos.. play_? The fuck?” Akane picked at her ear. “Well, whatever. I can still beat her up, right?”

‘No!” Shuichi replied, more forcefully than he thought possible. “Listen to me, there’s no need to…”

“Shuichi, relax.”

The ‘’’'’Ultimate Detective’’’’’ looked back in shock. Tenko-Tifa walked forward, and stretched out her long, strong legs. “Just as Akane couldn’t avoid making her challenge, Tenko has her own pride as well. As a master of Neo-Aikido, and as a member of AVALANCHE, who has to save the Planet from Shinra’s evil!”

“But that last part is fiction,” Shuichi objected, fruitlessly. He could already tell this was one of those conversations with only one possible ending.

Especially when Mikan did her best. “G-Go, Tifa! I’ll, um. H-Have a healing spell ready for you afterwards, i-i-if you need it! Go! Y-You can do it!”

Tenko glanced back, and her cheeks were bright red. “That settles it! Tenko isn’t going to give up, ever!” She turned back to Akane. “Meet me in your ring, Akane! Tenko will be your opponent. No excuses, no compromises. Um, but please be gentle. Tenko actually has a really low pain threshold.”

Wait, what? Seriously?

Oh, this was going to go well.


	15. 1-5. The Ultimate Labs III (Makoto)

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**SAYAKA MAIZONO**

* * *

 

“We all spent way more time here during our high school years than we did in class. Or home, in some cases. Like mine.”

The soundstage was impressive.

To a layperson, like Makoto Naegi.

“So I guess what I should have said earlier was ‘I’m home’, huh.”

Sayaka herself barely glanced at the equipment. Just enough to check that it was in working order and legit, and nothing there could broadcast to the outside world, nor receive TV or radio signals.

“We were as much rivals as friends. Which probably sounds weird. But competing, pushing each other, just made everyone work harder. It helped get us to the top. Usually. Sometimes things didn’t go quite as planned.”

Makoto just did his best to not say something dumb.

“I do miss them, though. A lot. I hope Usami’s right, Makoto. I hope they’re okay.”

“We’ve gotta believe they are, Sayaka.”

For some of the Ultimates, the people they’d left behind in the outside world were a forbidden subject. Or a landmine. Hearing Sayaka talk about it, prompted by memories as she went through her own freshly-built Ultimate Lab, just made Makoto think of his own family.

“My sister, Komaru? Huge fan. What was the term? Uh, a self-proclaimed Sayaker-”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Devoted. If she knew I was talking with the actual Sayaka Maizono right now, who knows what she’d do.”

“How’s this? When we can go back, I’ll give her all the autographed stuff she could ever ask for!”

“Ah, you don’t have to do anything like that…”

The Ultimate Idol skipped out from the studio. She went towards the upper floor of the structure, through a narrow stairwell. Makoto followed after a few moments. Just in case. When he emerged on the next floor, he saw a crowded, cramped office area full of files and folders, desks and cubicles.

Such an everyday scene clashed with his outsider’s perspective of the idol industry.

Sayaka navigated the maze-like space with perfect familiarity, helping to confirm what she suggested. This wasn't just an idol crew’s production office. It was 365 Production. Her group’s headquarters. Recreated in exacting detail.

When they’d searched enough so she could confirm it, Sayaka spun about on her heel and looked back at him, expression somber. The wistful expression was gone, and she stared at him dead-on.

“So. You think Nagito is a traitor?”

What.

“What.”

Sayaka tapped her forehead. “Psychic, remember?”

“You told me that was a joke!”

“It is. The real answer is that you’re such an earnest guy that your inner thoughts are basically tattooed on your forehead at all times.”

After gathering all that stress, after worrying how he could possibly break this news to Sayaka. After Makoto wondered if there was even one person he might trust on the island, given what Kyouko brought up this morning. Sayaka just went and popped the bubble. No hesitation, no doubts. “I wondered how the heck I was going to tell you.”

“Whoever’s going to become your girlfriend one day is a super lucky girl, Makoto,” Sayaka replied. “That’s not a talent joke. Well, it’s not just a talent joke. it’s because you won’t even be able to cheat on her, or lie. It’s like Ultimate Honesty.”

“Is that a compliment?” Makoto asked, nervously, trying to glide past what he felt was being strongly implied there. “Or should I work on becoming more, uh, nuanced?”

“No, it’s a great thing in a guy,” Sayaka replied, reaching over towards one of the office drawers, looking for something. “In any situation where we don’t have to suspect our friends, I mean. It’s admirable. Hm, I wonder if they have it. If this is an exact recreation of 365 Pro, then…”

“You got it really quickly, though,” Makoto said. “Even if you were just guessing.”

“What else would cause somebody like you, to look like that, at anyone? While we were talking with Hajime’s group, you barely ever took your eyes off him.” Sayaka noted, wiggling around in a way that caused Makoto to avert his eyes. Lest her short blue skirt prove way too short, for way too much girl. “There! Whew. There was one other reason I could figure it out, though.”

When he looked back towards Sayaka, she was brandishing a black and yellow taser.

At him.

She squeezed the trigger.

A visible arc of power leapt between the prongs of the device, crackling through the air.

Her beautiful smile, that had captured the hearts of countless people worldwide, was cast in electric blue.

“Because I’m the other traitor. And you know way too much, Makoto.”

Time froze.

“You’re kidding me.” Makoto said.

Sayaka took a step forward. Makoto backpedaled, eyes widening.

The office area they were in was wide, but narrow to actually traverse. Cubicles and dividers cut everything up. There was basically one way in, or out of, the room. Not to mention that in a dead sprint, Sayaka was probably twice as fast as him.

Just one touch with the business end of that taser, and he’d be in a world of hurt.

Helpless.

“Sayaka, come on, this isn’t funny.”

“Well, it is a very dramatic scene, you have to admit.”

Wait, a dramatic scene?

Why would a traitor care about drama?

Makoto shook his head, arms up in a pleading gesture. “This doesn’t make any sense!” He pointed at her accusingly.

“... It doesn’t?” Sayaka asked, tapping her own chin with the weapon carelessly, with her finger still on the trigger. In fact, she wielded that thing with a casual familiarity. “I mean, it seems simple to me. You’re now a threat, and I never tolerate those.”

Just how rough was show business, anyway?!

Makoto felt his mind sharpening from the spike of pure adrenaline.

“I mean, first off. You’re not the kind of person who would do something like this!”

Sayaka shook her head. “Weak. We knew each other, a little, a long time ago. You don’t know what that many years can do to a person, Makoto. I’m nothing like the girl you might remember.” She let out a gentle sigh, and allowed her smile to fade into a more real expression of sorrow. “Sorry to let you down.”

What was true, and what was lies?

More importantly, how could he get out of this in one piece?

“I’m sorry for what I’ve got to do. I really am the second agent, Makoto-”

“No! That’s wrong!”

“What?”

“Uh.”

Don’t look at him, Makoto had no idea what he was doing. Or, rather, he was acting on the first impulse that popped into his mind. His heart was racing too fast to do anything else. He was shaking.

He couldn’t give up. Not after last night. He wouldn’t give up and run away any longer. Even if it cost his life.

Makoto had a feeling about this situation. Deep down. Deeper than the fear that his life was in danger for the second time in twelve goddamn hours.

Something was wrong.

“Why now!?”

Sayaka was brought up short by that question. “Obviously, it’s because you figured out my comrade’s true nature. Way too quickly, too. It’s only the first stage of things to come. If I let you keep running around, you’ll ruin the plan.”

“But Komaeda himself couldn’t care less what I know!”

“That guy’s way too carefree,” Sayaka sighed, waving the taser around and letting the lightning from it dance and spark. “Kaede said it. Probably the product of a lot of experience with mind-altering substances. On the other hand, I don’t like loose ends, and I don’t like risk. I’ll cut out anything that can be a threat to me. Those are the well-honed instincts of the Ultimate Idol, Makoto.”

“Then this makes no sense at all! I mean, killing me in your own Ultimate Lab?!” Makoto gestured around. “Even if you try to hide it, that’s going to become obvious when Shuichi does, like, any detective stuff! Any of the Ultimates could pick up on it, really. It’ll lead back here! Back to you!”

“Stop pointing out the plot holes,” Sayaka said. “Everyone’s a critic these days, especially online. Sheesh. Unlike all those random 2chan assholes, though, I can shut you up for good.”

“No, now it’s obvious!” Makoto slammed the nearest available desk as he delivered his summation. “You’re not the traitor! You’re just fucking with me!”

Makoto was a lot less confident on the inside than he appeared as he yelled that.

When Sayaka let out a deep sigh and put the taser away, he let out a massive breath he’d been holding in.

In fact, his knees gave out, and he had to sit on a low desk, gasping for breath.

“Like I said. _Not funny_.”

“I got a few giggles out of watching you squirm.” Sayaka paused and then backed up, clapping her hands together. “... Okay, yeah, sorry. Way too far. I’m pretty sure the self-defense course specifically said ‘don’t use this thing to prank your friends’. You certainly didn’t react like I expected, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Next time, you should probably like, run? Being sharp on the riposte helps in a debate. But when a real bad guy is going after you? Words won’t matter. Force will. Applied directly, and quickly. The real traitors won’t hesitate like I did.” Watching Sayaka talk in that manner, like some kind of military strategist, was nearly as shocking as her actually brandishing that taser. “You know, I hated getting that thing. Even the sight of it creeped me out. But the first time a fan got too close, and wouldn’t back off, I turned the corner on it.”

“I did panic maybe a lot,” Makoto admitted nervously. “So I just reacted.”

“Honestly, you didn’t do too bad. You did, in fact, notice that it made no actual sense. Because it was fiction, made up on the spur of the moment! Most people can’t even think with a weapon in their face. Either you’ve had a way harder life than you let on, or… Nagito really did attack you yesterday?”

“That’s how I know for a fact he’s up to no good. It’s worse than just going after me. It was during Monokuma’s attack.” He had her undivided attention. “When Kokichi stole the Stick and took off.”

“Things got so crazy, nobody is clear on what happened,” Sayaka said.

“I am. I was there. Nagito and I got it back from Kokichi, with Mukuro’s help. Then Nagito turned on me. With a knife. He held me up, and wanted to give it to Monokuma instead.”

“Oh no.” Sayaka sighed again, shaking her head. “Please say you’re fucking with me, now.”

“I wish.” Makoto’s mind, still soaked in adrenaline, latched onto a detail he happened to notice. “Hey Sayaka, did you always swear?”

“Not when I can help it? Like when I’m around other people? Ehe. I figured the pedestal was already broken. Sorry. Anyway, what happened next? How did you make it out of there?”

“Kokichi helped me get it back.”

“ _Kokichi?_ The guy ranting about taking over the world in his spare time from being a titanic asshole?”

“The very same. The guy we took for a friend turned out to be just waiting for the best chance to fuck us all over. And the guy we took for a maniac showed his true colors.”

“What a keen sense of drama they both have.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want everyone to know he’s good? Or at least, not the enemy?” Makoto shook his head. “I can’t figure out either of those guys, Sayaka. But I know that Nagito’s the bad guy, and I’d swear it up and down to everyone. If I thought it would do any good. No evidence, except Kokichi. It was just us three when it came down to the wire.”

“That’s why you didn’t bring this up at the meeting,” Sayaka tapped her chin. “Well, we could still ask Kokichi for help.”

“I didn’t even bother. Nobody will believe anything he says. Nagito said he’d pretend none of it happened. Unless I accuse him. In which case, he’ll point the finger right back at me.” Makoto stared at the floor, despondent. “I guess if there’s no evidence, then I could really be the traitor instead. Like, who would even know?”

“It’s like a puzzle. A accuses B, so B accuses A. They can’t both be bad, or there would be no accusation. Same for if they were both good. So one of them is a traitor. Whether it’s the accuser or the accused.” Sayaka rolled her eyes. “Except in the real world, people don’t have to act like that, at all. Well, for whatever it matters, Makoto, I believe you.”

He’d hoped to hear those words.

Maybe not under these circumstances, but he’d take any kind of support at this point.

“I mean, I sure wouldn’t have brought this up if I wasn’t certain. Like I said, you’re an open book. Nagito smiles all the time. Who knows what he really thinks?”

Makoto glanced up at her. She laughed.

“Yeah, I know. Sounds familiar, right? I wasn’t kidding earlier. I’m not the person you think I am.” Sayaka shook her head. “I set my sights on the dream. I did whatever it took to make it to the top, Makoto.” She turned, and looked him dead in the eye, all traces of her smile gone.

“You’re very driven, yeah.”

“Please understand. Whatever it took. Including, uh. Horrible things. So if Nagito’s even kind of the same, then you’re in big trouble.”

Makoto’s world was so unlike what Sayaka’s must have been, for so long. He had trouble even imagining what it must have been like, or what she could have been implying.

A big part of him didn’t want to know, but there was no turning back.

For all the people he tried to get killed, Komaeda did one thing that Makoto would have to thank the son of a bitch for, one day. On the day he was revealed.

He gave Makoto a purpose. A real one, for the first time in his entire life.

“You’re right, I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’ve been through. But I want to change that. I want to get to know you, Sayaka. The real you. I still want to be friends, really. And I want to work with you, to take Komaeda and the other traitor down. Figure out all the mysteries, while we’re at it. Save everyone. I dunno, even figure out the Ultimate Hunt, and how to stop it.”

“Grand ambitions, Makoto.” Sayaka shook her head. “I had an image of you in my mind, too. It wasn’t a flattering one. I mean, that’s why I suggested the room swap thing. Doesn’t that bother you? That you were like my decoy?”

Makoto shrugged. “It doesn’t make me feel wonderful, that’s for sure. But after all this, maybe your impression of me has changed a little?”

“A lot.”

“Good. Like I said before. I’ll protect you, whatever it takes. I can’t really fight. I wouldn’t take that taser if you offered it. I’d just end up setting my pocket on fire or something. But when I say I’m gonna do something, I’m gonna do it. We can still keep the room trade up, I haven’t gotten attached to my own cabin or anything.”

Sayaka shook her head, but couldn’t help a smile. “You are way too nice. Like, abnormally so. I just threatened to kill you.”

Makoto folded his arms and did his best Byakuya impression. “Get in line. That’s my new normal. Come back when you actually try it for real.”

“Whoa, look out. We’re dealing with a real badass here.” Sayaka laughed. For all that had happened, Makoto still thought it was a beautiful sound. He’d like to hear a lot more of it. “Alright. If you want to be friends with a fucked-up idol like me, it’s your funeral. Come on, partner. If we don’t catch up with the team, they’re going to think we’re just in here making out.”

“Aw man. Anything but that.”

Sayaka made a childish face, took him by the hand, and they left the studio.

Makoto imagined he could actually see the moment Sayaka put her mask back on.

He could have thought a whole lot of things about a girl who just threatened him, only to take him by the hand and flirt the next minute. Sayaka was right, a normal person would want to stay far away from that kind of girl. Just like Kyouko was right, earlier. Trusting people was dangerous, and keeping them at arm’s length was the smart move.

All he did was quietly admire her courage.

When they got back onto the road, Makoto noticed the hamster assigned to their recon squad sprinting back towards the bridge. The hamster was orange and white. **Supernova Silver Fox San-D** , apparently.

Gundham was very insistent on everyone learning their names.

“Wonder what Hajime and the others found already,” Makoto mused.

“Only one way to find out,” Sayaka replied, still holding his hand. “C’mon, maybe you’ve got a lab, too.”

“How would you even research ‘having good luck’?” Makoto asked. “Although I guess since they had the yearly drawing at all, Hope’s Peak must have believed it was possible somehow.”

No dice.

It was still quite a sight to see a full-length baseball field by the side of the road. They hardly needed the sign.

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**LEON KUWATA**

* * *

 

The baseball diamond was surrounded by tall grass and weeds. Even though the facility was newly constructed. A ruined dugouts and locker rooms looked abandoned, even from a distance. The run-down nature of the field meant that while anybody could use it to play, they might trip over something, and it seemed of absurdly poor quality compared to the work and care that went into Sayaka’s lab.

That wasn’t the whole story, though. In the part of the field closest to the road, a stage for a concern had been set up amidst the tall grass. Metal beams and frames on the structure supported a number of massive electric speakers. Floodlights glared down, in broad daylight already, on the stage. That part of the Lab looked modern, even high-tech, with some glowy bits that served more form than function.

Expectation clashed hard against the reality of what they were seeing, which drew their eyes towards the stage. Where a pair of figures were merrily jamming out on guitars, while a third, in that distinctive yellow jumpsuit, was fiddling with huge electrical cabling beneath the structure.

Ibuki and Leon, having fun with a jam session even though no sound was coming out. And Kazuichi, hard at work under there.

“Hey!” Leon waved a friendly greeting towards them as they approached. “Wow, Makoto. No need to like, rub it in our faces or anything, man.”

“Is that a challenge to all the idol-loving fans of this world?” Ibuki mused, grinning ear to ear. “You’re a braver man than Ibuki!”

Oh, right. They were still holding hands.

Makoto let go, turning red.

“Well, Ibuki can’t say she _blames_ you. Like, at all. Because whoa. But Ibuki’s trying something a little different today, as you can see!”

“Ibuki’s fucking awesome, man!” Leon gushed. “She’s showing me, like, guitar stuff. Like a fuckin’ wizard with this.”

“In the process, Ibuki is progressing not one, but two routes simultaneously! Ibuki won’t lose to you in the end, Makoto. Even if she has no pointy hair bits!”

Who ever knew what was Ibuki was talking about. Routes? Was she interested in Leon and Kazuichi? Or just messing around? Her hair was plenty pointy, and styled enough to make it clear she was doing that on purpose. Hair-horns. Oh well. At least they were all having fun. Even Kazuichi looked like he was relishing the challenge of getting all this weird sci-fi audio tech to get along with the older-style stuff, and power lines…. Hmm. Power lines.

Sayaka was on it. “Good morning, Kazuichi. Where is this place getting power from? For that matter, what’s providing electricity for this entire island?”

“Great question, Miss Maizono,” The Ultimate Mechanic said, wiping some sweat from his brow. “At this point, I’m convinced. Undersea cables. Gotta be. Unless every single island has some buried generator. We’ve never seen anything like that.”

Leon shouldered his guitar, like he was carrying a rifle. Its unwieldy, bulky wooden finish glinted in the sunlight. “The power setup could be wherever Usami’s base is. Can’t imagine she’d want us to be messing with her plans.”

Kazuichi nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I could dig up hundreds of meters of power cords and cables, uh. With my bare hands. So I guess I couldn’t. Whatever. As long as we get juice, we can worry about finding a way to use it later, right?” A piercing, high-pitched ghostly wail thundered across the baseball field, flattening nearby grass. “Oh dear lord!” His face looked like he’d become a ghoul, too, in shock and horror.

What a horrible technical glitch from those big speakers-

Oh.

It was just Ibuki warming up her voice.

Makoto and Sayaka wished them all the best in their jam session. They wasted no time getting out of there, proceeding further down the road.

What could be beyond the next corner, as they pressed deeper into the overgrown island?

Whatever Makoto expected, he was still taken aback to look at a big diner sitting on the road. Compared to reports of the roadside diner on Second Island, which was reportedly a humble little place to pull in with a large parking lot, this was a larger building, but had no lot. It looked bigger than the open-air restaurants back at the hotels.

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**TERUTERU HANAMURA**

* * *

 

The structure was made from bricks, and their red fire-forged clay appearance gave the building a style all its own. Helped by the fact that, like most establishments, it had a sign out front, showing off its name in glowing, gaudy neon lettering.

Makoto wasn’t even a hundred percent sure what the language was, but Sayaka read it easily enough. “‘Lagniappe’, huh? That’s maybe French, or English. Or one of those words English took from French, that’s always possible.”

“Well, what’s it mean?”

Sayaka shrugged.

“Simple, mah fellow Ultimates. Come on, come in, by all means, come inside all you like.” Teruteru himself, the Ultimate Cook, called from the doorway of the establishment, before holding it open for them, his eyes sparkling with sheer pride.

Even from just the door being ajar, sizzling meat and roiling flames could be heard from the kitchen. The building was giving off a ton of smoke, and it might have actually been warmer inside than out, even with all the open windows. “It’s French, in fact, for ‘a little bit extra’, essentially. A bonus gift, a little something you get. This was sure one heck of a gift to me. And, frankly, a gift to everyone on the island.”

“No kidding,” called an unusually languid and lethargic Junko, who was sitting at the back of the large restaurant tables near a fan, reclining in her chair before a mostly-empty plate. Beside her, Mukuro sat as usual, calm and collected, barely having touched her own helping of cooked meat. “Oh my gosh, Teru. You’re like, the God of Food. You weren’t kidding.”

“I never exaggerate about my performance or capabilities,” Teruteru replied, still puffed up with pride. And hopefully, nothing else. “Makoto, Sayaka, have yourselves a seat as well, if you like. Can I get you some menus I’ve been working up with the lovely Kirumi’s dutiful assistance?~”

“Ah, we can probably wait until lunch,” Makoto replied. “Although the smell in here is getting to me a little, whoa. Hey, come to think of it, we could totally seat all three classes in here comfortably, with this many chairs and tables.”

“Exactly what I’m thinkin’,” Teruteru said. “It’s brilliant. For once, HPA made a move I can get behind four hundred percent. Even if that whole story about it being destroyed in some ‘Ultimate Hunt’ is total bunkum.” He leaned against Makoto and Sayaka like they were old friends.

Sayaka nodded in agreement, smiling brightly. “What’s the best way to cultivate the Ultimate cooking talent? Have him cook for everybody a lot, of course! Ah, Teruteru?”

“Yes, darling?~”

“Please take your hand off my butt?”

“Oh no! Ah am so very sorry,” Teruteru apologized in the fakest manner possible, making a bit show of moving his hands away. Makoto tensed up, but Sayaka herself seemed utterly unfazed by the incident. He brushed it off, too, with an awkward little laugh. “Frankly, Makoto, you got no right to judge me, the way you and Sayaka snuck off into her Lab.”

Makoto stared. “How could you possibly… Junko!”

Junko shrugged, using a toothpick. “Sorry, guys. The price for this fan-fucking-tastic early lunch was two Salacious Secrets. And that was totally the first. Ehe.” Whenever Junko smiled, she looked a bit predatory, and that was certainly true here, as she revealed that she sold out her squadmates for a heavenly meal.

“And since you enjoyed your meal so much, perhaps you’d bestow upon me that second secret, as we agreed?~”

“Sure! You actually guessed right on the money, Teru. Mookie does, in fact, wear white cotton panties like she’s still some innocent little schoolgirl.”

Junko and Teruteru shared a big laugh. While the stoic, unflappable Ultimate Soldier sat there. Shooting Makoto a look he could only describe as ‘pleading’. There was still little outward emotion on her freckled face, but the icy-blue eyes gave it away.

If Mukuro couldn’t reign in her own sister’s actions, Makoto didn’t stand a chance!

However, it was equally impossible to ignore Mukuro like that, looking so unlike how she normally did. Bullets and rockets didn’t faze her, last night made that abundantly clear. Risk, danger, death flying overhead? Cool as ice. But Junko had all the keys to her emotions, apparently.

Makoto cleared his throat. “I guess we should get back to Hajime, Chiaki, and Komaeda, right?”

Junko sighed. “Yeah, let’s go.” She sprang to her feet. “Thanks for the meal, Teru.”

“My pleasure,” Teruteru replied, seeing off his visitors with a bow. “Tell your friends, and please come again! Seriously, I’m totally going to be holding lunch right here, the facility’s even better than the hotel’s, and Kirumi won’t have to do quite as much running around. Oh man. I really feel like I’ve got my very own restaurant. Momma, if only you could see your son now…”

Once they were out of earshot of the Lagniappe, Junko turned to Makoto expectantly.

“So?”

“Do the math,” Makoto replied to her unspoken question. “We weren’t even in there long enough to do anything.”

“That’s not a flat-out denial, though! Oh em gee.”

“I flatly deny it,” Makoto specified, shaking his head. “Seriously.”

Junko’s demeanor changed, and she let out an explosive sigh. “I know. Definitely an omega type.”

What was that, Greek? Was it foreign language appreciation day?

Language arts were certainly on the menu, as the foursome approached the next Ultimate Lab. An old, ominous, imposing gothic-style library.

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**TOUKO FUKAWA**

* * *

 

The building’s huge wooden doors radiated hospitality. Knocking at the big metal handle thing produced no effect, except to get a muffled _“Go away!”_ from inside the brick building. This place seemed far older than Teruteru’s diner, although both had, in truth, been made recently with the Exisals. They did an excellent job replicating an oppressive, ancient air. Complete with dust, and even overgrown vines starting to creep up the sides.

There were windows, but they were so hopelessly dirty and grimy that nothing could be seen through the glass. Junko still took note of them. “I have less than no time for this. Mookie, if we can’t get in the front door, get us in through one of these expensive-looking windows.”

 _“Wait!”_ Touko cried out, before Mukuro had a chance to kick one of the windows. The doors to the old library cracked and whined as they moved open. Makoto was impressed Touko could even move them by herself. She must have been far stronger than her wiry, rail-thin figure suggested.

The glasses-wearing Ultimate Writing Prodigy glared out at Makoto’s party with contempt. “W-W-What is your problem?”

“We’d like to have a look inside your Ultimate Lab, if that’s okay with you,” Sayaka said, but her bright and cheerful attitude, and constant smiles, seemed like it was toxic to Touko, who recoiled. In fact, sunlight itself seemed to be harming her. Just like a vampire from those romance novels she loved so much.

“First that bothersome photographer, who I let in, only to get a lecture about m-my self care habits… not that it’s any of her damn business… then, that smug fujo-bait twink, Captain Generic, and hand-crafted ideal waifu gamer girl… all poking and prodding and messing with these wonderful books…” Touko grumbled, growing more and more frustrated. Her round circle-shaped glasses sat skewed on her face as she thought hard enough to exert physical efforts.

“Well, at least we know the guys came through here,” Makoto said with a nervous laugh.

“O-Okay! To get you all off my back, I’ll give you a tour, but then you have to agree to fuck off and die.”

“We can do one of those things,” Sayaka said, never breaking her smile even in the face of unbridled frustration and aggression.

“Deal.”

It was a library. Most libraries had a wide selection of books, although Makoto had to admit, he wasn’t as familiar with the inside of his own local library as he should have been. Who had time for those in the modern age? If you really needed a book, you could just download it to something. Or just read Twitter all day.

Fortunately for his own life expectancy, he knew better than to expose Touko to such opinions. She showed them the great, dusty bookshelves.

All full to the brim with nothing but romance novels of every type and quality level. Plus, several different languages and translations for many of them. All romance. Smutty contents, pure love dramas, Touko spoke of them both with almost equal fervor. She did favor the kinds of stories she herself wrote, at a great old oak desk in a study at the back of the library. Where there was actual parchment, and actual inkwells and brushes, waiting for her. Alongside a cell phone, sitting on the table.

“It h-has no connection,” Touko explained. “Usami just provided it. P-Probably because a lot of my hits have been cell phone novels. How thoughtful.”

“So, this is your entire lab.” Junko looked around. “I guess everything can’t be a surprise, right? This is pretty much what literally anyone would expect.”

“If you’re so b-bored by it and me, I’m certainly not forcing you to stick around!”

Attempts to strike up a conversation with Touko on a personal level, ask her about her work, or about the lab itself, all met with dismal and frustrating failures.

She didn’t just want to be alone. She actively tried to remove other people from her surroundings.

Junko’s hard-charging, dominant personality got nowhere. Sayaka’s diplomatic, friendly overtures were rejected with hate. Makoto’s straight talk and respectful approach got thrown back in his own face. Mukuro didn’t do the conversation thing. They were 0-for-4. Out of luck.

Makoto thought he might be able to get something resembling a conversation out of Touko one on one. In a group situation, Touko felt cornered, and was clearly defensive.

And sweaty.

And greasy.

The only solution was to thank her for the grand tour, and then take their leave. They’d certainly done all the investigating they could. Touko’s feelings were becoming a two-way street sort of thing. As in, they were just as happy to leave, as she was happy to see them go.

While her paranoid isolation was largely a self-inflicted problem, she did correctly pick up that lots of people were not enamored by her. Her reaction to it was just not helpful or healthy.

Oh well. Makoto had a lot of other concerns, and not much time left before lunch. In fact, they had to get the word out with one of the messenger ham-hams where lunch was actually being held, including to the people who didn’t bother to explore.

Their next destination, after some walking, offered some very unsubtle clues as to its owner. It was a manor on a hillside overlooking the sea. Not, perhaps, the size of an actual house, but done up in the same style, with extravagant, modern architecture devoid of wood or arches.

When they got close enough, the sign confirmed his suspicions.

* * *

  **ULTIMATE LAB**  
**BYAKUYA TOGAMI**

* * *

 

“Why the fuck does he get an actual seaside mansion?!” Junko demanded. “What, is it because his talent is ‘literally was just born rich, obey, you fucking peasants’? Tch. Makoto, I’d take your Ultimate Bullshit any day of the week over the Ultimate Rich Guy.”

Makoto laughed nervously. “Thanks?”

“We could always go ask,” Sayaka said. “Look, it’s them! Both of them! And… Hajime?”

Hajime was over near the front door of the mansion, looking unhappy. Big shock. However, after the meeting, it seemed like his spirits were picking up. Even if it made Makoto sick to see him and Komaeda getting so buddy-buddy like one of them wasn’t a monster. Having the mega cute gamer girl, Chiaki, along for the ride probably didn’t hurt his mood, either.

Komaeda and Chiaki were both absent. Instead, Hajime was talking with both versions of Byakuya.

Serious downgrade.

Given the interactions Makoto had with Skinny Byakuya, he could only imagine how much fun it was to talk to both.

“Hey, guys,” Hajime waved, giving a hopeless smile. “The others went ahead to the next lab. Look, you can see it pretty clearly now that you’re on top of the hill.” He jerked his thumb over past the mansion, and through the winding dirt road. The forest was much thinner higher up, and indeed, another building stuck out. In fact, compared to the other Ultimate Labs that Makoto had seen, it was huge. A glass tower rose above the landscape, with gaudy signs all over, and countless lights.

“... Is that a _casino_?!” Makoto wondered aloud in shock.

“I’d love to figure that out for myself,” Hajime said. “But both Byakuyas asked me to be their… referee.”

Junko clapped. “Okay. That’s it! Hajime, let’s go meet up with Chiaki and Nagito. Mookie! Stay here with these two, and be their babysitter or whatever. Work out which one is the fake, using any means necessary. And once you do figure it out, kill the imposter.”

“Kill?!” Makoto echoed in horror.

“Understood,” Mukuro replied calmly.

“I’m fine with that,” One of the Byakuyas said, tilting his chin up confidently.

“As am I. This ends today, you handsome, intelligent, but ultimately sinister jerk.” The other one replied, pointing dramatically.

Junko sighed. “And if you can’t figure out who’s the fake ho, then, like. These two need to work out some kind of time-sharing agreement for this Lab or something. If they can’t do at least that much, kill them both. And make sure to hide the evidence like usual!”

“On it,” Mukuro acknowledged.

That meant Hajime was free to go, and very grateful.

Makoto wasn’t sure about this style of conflict resolution. “Junko, even if you were joking, um. Mukuro is the Ultimate Soldier, and all.”

“Oh, wow! I hadn’t thought of that before, Makoto. Nice observation.”

Blistering.

“Man, don’t worry so much. Mookie _gets_ me. We’re like, the ultra-tightest. She’ll always do what I really want. Regardless of the words I say. So while she doesn’t have much of what you’d call a sense of humor. I promise, she gets it. It’s like a wolf’s keen hunting instincts. Or something? They’ll work things out.”

“Ah. Yeah,” Makoto said. “I wouldn’t mess around if Mukuro was giving me the look. Any look.”

Junko’s light blue eyes lit up. “I know, right?! I don’t say it enough, but my lil sis is, like, the fucking literal super coolest. She needs to have more confidence in herself. Like a certain luck-boy I might happen to know!”

Hajime smiled. “I think that goes for both of them, actually. You guys put yourselves down way too much. At least you know what your talents are. I could just not have one.”

Makoto laughed it off, because the alternative was crying.

Unsurprisingly, Sayaka rolled with it a lot better. “Maybe you’re the Ultimate Lawyer?~”

“Oh, you mean because of what happened at the meeting? Dude. You were awesome!” Junko declared, backing Sayaka up. “You showed Usami a thing or two! If that Kaede didn’t get in your way...”

Hajime shook his head. “I don’t know. Kaede had a point. Usami did lose her temper. We can say whatever we want, but she’s got all the cards. It’s even possible Usami really is our friend.”

Junko sighed. “Tch. Maybe. I still don't buy a word of it, though. Not one. Just remember, guys. Usami could be worse than Monokuma was ever going to be.”

She noticed all the skeptical looks, and rolled her eyes. “Hear me out. Somebody who’s an out-front-cunt can be a whole lot more legit than someone pretending to be your bestie. Believe me.”

Sayaka nodded. “I can’t disagree, Junko. Some people can act like your friend, then stab you in the back.”

Hajime looked away. “Can we talk about something else? Anything? I need a little more positivity in my life. Or I’m not going to make it to Friday. Can we talk more about how cool I was, standing up to Usami?”

_Bwoing._

“But surely, you’ve realized that was a mistake!”

Usami’s tendency to come out of actual nowhere was still distressing. Especially when it reminded everyone that Usami was monitoring them somehow. Hajime narrowed his eyes. “Can we help you?”

Usami drooped at the frosty response. “I thought it was interesting, how you mentioned ‘making it to Friday’. I have some news for you to give to the rest of the students.”

“Why bother going through us?” Makoto asked.

“Stop asking perfectly logical questions! Ahem. I’m done appearing before you all before you pass the next progress gate,” Usami huffed in annoyance. “So you can tell everyone. With your dumb crew, and your dumb dumb-ness.”

“So you claim to be our teacher. But you’re the one taking your ball and going home when we say mean things. And now you’re calling us dumb-dumbs,” Hajime recapped. “Am I missing anything?”

‘Yes! The message! I’m busy with, like, stuff! So the flashback lights will take twice as long as anticipated! Roughly four days. By Friday, though, the next memories will be uncovered!”

“Great,” Junko sighed. “More waiting around. I love boring things almost as much as I love hope.”

Usami glowered towards Junko. “Well you should have thought of that back when you- Eeeep!”

“What.” Junko said flatly, staring in bewilderment.

Usami panicked. “Ignore that! Seriously! Uh, it was just a little, you know, joke.”

Hajime shook his head, moving right past whatever that was with a clear lack of interest. “Whatever. Can I just assume that this delay is because you’re making sure the second flashback light is safe?”

“C-Correct. And seriously, that outburst at Junko has no plot relevance, at all! Swear!”

“Usami.”

“Y-Yes, Mister Hajime?”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome…” Usami floated away on the power of her self-loathing. “I’m still mad, though.”

Things were awkward in her wake.

All eyes were on the Ultimate Fashionista, and not in the usual way.

“Junko? What was Usami talking about?” Makoto asked.

“Literally the fuck if I know, dude.” Junko tossed up her hands. “I have yet to figure out why Monokuma took a special interest in Mookie. Now, Usami’s got some beef with yours truly. Apparently, my family doesn’t mix well with stuffed animals that yammer on about hope and despair.”

“Oh, that’s right. Monokuma did say something to Mukuro back on the beach.” Sayaka tapped her chin. “You have an amazing memory, Junko.”

“What can I say? I never forget, nor forgive, guys who try to move in on my Mookie. Makoto, best remember that~”

* * *

  **U** **LTIMATE LAB**  
**CELESTIA LUDENBERG**

* * *

 

A freaking casino. The tower rose up at least fifteen levels from the ground, standing up straight with row after row of glass and steel. A very modern, functional design for the top of the tower. While at the base, everything was made up in classical, European, old-fashioned style. Gated white-painted brick walls leading to an ominous manor. Unlike Byakuya’s lab, though, the house trappings were just decorations to spice up the building’s appearance. Unlike Touko’s ominous gothic decor which was probably purpose-built to ward people away, this place had a strange allure.

Much like the intense, even frightening, red eyes of the lab’s owner.

Wait, that wasn’t Celestia at the front gate. It was...

“Taka?!” Junko gawked. “What the hell are you wearing?!”

The Ultimate Moral Compass looked sheepish in his finely-tailored Western-style formal outfit. A tuxedo, rather than the blinding white of his uniform. “I could not ignore the request of a treasured classmate!”

“That’s not an answer! What’s with the butler getup?! You’re lucky Moogs isn’t here.” Junko shook her head. “Celes has you… working at her lab? Because it’s a casino? And she played on your ever-so-predictable sense of responsibility and helpfulness to get you to do her work for her?”

“Essentially correct,” Taka admitted. “Although I dispute any notion that I was tricked! I took this job of my own free will, to see how the normal people who I will one day lead live!”

“What part of any of this is ‘normal’?” Hajime wondered.

Taka loaded up his pre-rehearsed speech for this occasion, instead of giving any kind of answer. “Welcome! One and all! To Celestia Ludenberg’s Ultimate Fate! Your teammates are still inside, although they haven’t been here long.”

“Chiaki and Nagito?” Makoto asked. “What, were they gambling? With what?”

Taka shook his head. “Please, honored customers! Allow me to show you around, and all will become clear-”

“Reee! Fucking normies! Get out of my thread! Er, Miss Ludenberg’s fine establishment!”

Before they could even get past the gaudy, ornate gold-plated lobby area, Hifumi stormed in. Wearing the same formalwear getup as Taka. Making it look three times as absurd on his balloon of a body. In fact, given that his eyes were obviously red too, and obviously contact lenses underneath his glasses, three times was probably underselling it.

One heck of an odd trio being ushered out, too. Chiaki, the Ultimate Gamer. Komaeda, the other Ultimate Lucky Student, and secretly a traitor. Last, but not least except in terms of height, Ryoma. The Ultimate Tennis Pro.

Wait, they were all being kicked out?

“Free tip, guys,” Komaeda sighed. “Don’t win too much in a casino. Or they’ll get platinum mad.”

“And we didn’t even get the Platinum Chip for our troubles.” Chiaki huffed.

“These three! Especially this white-haired troublemaker in the middle. Have utterly cleaned out the house! Mere hours after our grand debut opening, too!” Hifumi raged. “Miss Ludenberg is going to beat me severely for this failure of mine, as dealer and manager! And because of my loyalty to delicious, beautiful 2D, I won’t feel one shred of sexual pleasure from itttt!”

“All I did was play with the arcade and slot machines,” Chiaki said calmly. “I won. A lot. It was fun, Hajime.”

“Not for our ledgers!” Hifumi rampaged, in as ineffectual and comical a manner as possible. Like he read a guidebook on how to be an evil lackey, to go along with that gothic formal attire. “And you, Ryoma!”

“What can I say?” The stoic little guy shrugged, looking very pleased with himself. “Can’t break my, can’t break my, can’t break my poker face. You’ve still got a ways to go, Yamada.”

“Nnngh!”

“Oh my. Please don’t misunderstand, my dear guests.”

Arriving from the top of an ornate, spiraling red-carpet staircase, there was Celestia. Impeccably made up so thickly her already pale skin tone looked ghostly white. Dressed in her usual layer-cake dress-suit outfit. Of course, looking rather pleased with herself. More than usual, given that even for somebody who wagered, won, and lost life’s fortunes like Celeste, discovering that one owned a casino was probably not an everyday occurrence.

“My dear little piggy has it… backwards. Rather than being confounded by your success, I am excited beyond words. Especially for you, Nagito. I do sincerely hope we can do another few hands, sometime. I wonder if I will have what to takes to finally, for perhaps the first time in your life, make your luck… run dry?~”

“You’re way too kind, Celes,” Komaeda replied, laughing nervously. “Especially to garbage like me. I’m not even worthy to play cards with the Ultimate Gambler!”

“Be that as it may, I find trash that knows it’s trash far more… acceptable than the usual. Ahem. We just need time to close up the casino, and organize things. Such that all of the Ultimates may open accounts here as they wish, and play to their heart’s content. Of course, we would need to do this anyway,” Celeste explained in her strong French accent. “I believe lunchtime is approaching, in any case. Why don’t we all go together, and discuss our future plans for living together on this wonderful paradise of an island?~”

Huh. Living together, on Gopher Island. Yeah, that was their fate for the foreseeable future, huh?

It was quite a walk back to Teruteru’s restaurant. Their group snowballed as they passed each Lab and picked up more Ultimates.

Who were all eager to experience what Teruteru could do, once unleashed, with a custom-built lab made for his talent. If his earlier work was with the ‘default’ kitchen tools, what could he achieve now?

Spirits were high.

For everyone who didn’t happen to be named Makoto Naegi.

He never let Komaeda walk behind him, and glared Truth Blades into his back the whole way there.

As news spread and Teruteru continued working on enough dishes to accommodate the forty-seven Ultimates who ate food, and Kokichi was busy bullying the one who didn’t for not being an actual human being, everyone else filtered into the Lagniappe.

The last of the actual squads to arrive was Shuichi’s Black Hats. When they did, Makoto saw what was keeping them.

Shuichi and Mikan were supporting Tenko between them, as she was incapable of walking on her own power. Clearly, she wasn’t able to. Or she would have never put up with the indignity of leaning against a male for support.

Panic ensued as people saw the badly beaten Ultimate Aikido Master.

_**“TENKOOOO! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!”** _

“G-Get away from me, extra-large degenerate Nekomaru… Tenko is f-fine…”

“Ahem. Miss Chabashira, why are you dressed up like Tifa Lockhart, if I might inquire?~” Hifumi asked, raising his hand politely while vibrating.

“That’s not the point here, dear, silly Hifumi,” Celestia cided, waving her finger. “If you don’t learn to read the room while in my employ… I’LL HAVE YOU FLAYED ALIVE, FUCKING PIG!”

“Aaaaah! Spare me!”

Makoto forgot how it could be to gather so many exceptional talents, and larger-than-life personalities. He had a demonstration just a few hours before, after breakfast, but things really picked up now.

Akane stared. “Wait, that’s really Tenko? Okay, I’m lost.”

Eventually, everything was sorted out.

Kinda.

The meeting started before lunch, although dishes were brought out by Kirumi and Komaeda. Kaito rose to say a few words, mostly to head off all the cross-talk and speculation.

“Alright, everyone. Settle down a bit, A few brief remarks before we start.” The Ultimate Astronaut stood up, and raised his voice. Obligingly, most of the chatter fell off, to the point where every part of the restaurant could hear him. “First up, no need to worry. Tenko’s gonna be fine, eventually. There was no fight, so stop spreading rumors. They had a sparring match.”

“That Tenko lost, brutally,” Kokichi added cheerfully.

Angie leaned over the Black Hats’ table. “Kokchi, it seems we need to have another ‘talk’ about rudeness. Will a liter suffice?~”

Tenko(?) shook her head. “Please, Angie. It’s true. Tenko should have tapped out far before it reached… that point. But to lose in such a humiliating, one-sided fashion… nngh.. Tenko’s ribs hurt way less than her pride.”

“But according to Mikan, neither of those things were broken, and she’ll be fine!” Kaito continued. “And if not, uh. We’ll take her to, well. I suppose, Hina’s lab. Closest thing to a hospital we got on this island.”

“I’m astonished how much thought went into some areas of this trip,” Twogami mused. “And how little into others. Did Usami simply think that we wouldn’t need any kind of medical facility, in case something ever went wrong?”

Kaito shrugged. “Get well soon, Tenko.”

‘Tenko doesn’t need your condescending male pity!”

“On to the main topic. Hopefully, you all got a chance to explore the Ultimate Labs. If not, Mahiru has provided a bunch of the photos she took of Second and Third Island landmarks. Including all twelve of the labs that are open to us so far. Check them out on that table in the back. So! This place is Teruteru’s lab.”

“Holy shit!” Kokichi marvelled. “Did somebody read him the sign, or did he manage to figure it out himself?”

“Shut up, Kokichi! The twelve belong to, going clockwise on the map from the bridge: Sayaka, Leon, Teruteru…”

“To get here via the bridge, they’d have to pass by those!”

“SHUT UP, KOKICHI, Touko, Byakuya, Celes, Akane, whoever the fuck the Ultimate Imposter is, Moogs, Hiyoko, Hiro, and Hina. Then you’re back at the bridge. Far as we can tell, the middle is impassable, and full of bugs. Wouldn’t recommend.”

One of the Ultimates certainly would recommend. “Gonta make new bug-friends! But cannot study or store them without proper facilities. Otherwise, bugs hurt. Gonta still can’t host Bug Party for everyone until he gets his own Lab…”

“Real tragedy, big guy,” Ryoma remarked from beside him.

Ryoma was the smallest Ultimate, and Gonta was the largest. When they sat together like that, it was a comical sight. Even though Makoto was like the others, and had little interest in anything called a ‘Bug Party’, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for the big guy too.

“Yeah!” Kaede pitched in. “It’s a total shame. Uh, that bring us to the next item. Namely, why these twelve? We were supposed to have Usami here, but she said she’s still, uh, busy ‘taking care of something else’.”

Kaito shook his head. “No point trying to second-guess Usami’s plans, if she isn’t even here. Shuichi, your report for the class?”

Being thrust into the spotlight was not Shuichi’s strong point.

Makoto would probably fare little better, but it was still awkward to see him get awkward, fast. “Well, uh. If we’re just looking for data that sticks out. The most obvious one is that, uh, one of the labs belongs to somebody we don’t know. Or rather, the Ultimate Imposter is among us. Nobody has come forward and claimed to be them.”

The two Byakuyas glared daggers at each other from across the room, as everyone else descended into a frosty silence, realizing the implications of that.

“While I wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions, I can’t help but say that this could be our first clue to the identity of one of Monokuma’s agents. If they actually exist.”

“If Tsumugi can become fictional characters most convincingly,” Kiyo mused, opening the zipper on his mask to admit some of Teruteru’s excellent, world-class cooking, “And she does indeed possess a level of cosplay ability I would call preternatural, then we can only assume this Ultimate Imposter possesses a similar ability, but with real people.”

“As if we didn’t have enough paranoia fuel already,” Kaito grumbled. “Listen, everyone. It really is probably one of the Byakuyas. And while the thin one is kind of a jackwagon-”

“Excuse me, peasant?!”

“The fat one, well. He’s also arrogant, but he was one of the squad leaders today. Seems to be kind of a take-charge guy in general. Honestly, I don’t think this Imposter is a risk to the group either way. So try not to lose any extra sleep over it.”

“Speaking of which, we should arrange our guard schedules for tonight,” Peko said. “I can go again, but if the others want to get an actual night’s sleep, I cannot begrudge them that.”

“Before we fall to banal concerns,” The larger Byakuya said, standing up. “My announcement will wait no longer. Everyone! There is a crisis of leadership on this island. As you can tell, any time we try to have a meeting. Chaos and anarchy reign, and we are dragged off topic in a thousand directions. We can barely agree on anything.”

“I disagree!” Hiyoko shouted. “Mister Ham-Hands.”

“Thank you for that, Hiyoko.” Twogami shook his head. “I want to eat as much as any of you.” He considered the situation, and then his own considerable gut. “Perhaps more. However! This time we’re waiting presents an excellent opportunity. Not just to gather more Hope Fragments, and pass Usami’s next progress gate. But on Friday, we should also begin the process of electing new leadership for the alleged ‘crew’.”

He said it so forcefully, nobody could challenge his assertions. Until Kaede stood up. “Byakuya, I didn’t know that you really thought that about me and Kaito.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Twogami assured her. “I just firmly believe that I, Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny, will make a better leader.”

“A bold claim,” Kiyo nodded, raising a finger. “But this goes deeper than simple personal squabbles, or ambitions. As the Ultimate Anthropoligist, I think we are in the process of birthing some kind of new culture on this island. We must decide who is going to run, and what they’ll run for. Do we have one leader only? Or two, as we do now? What of representatives from each class? These are just some examples of what we will need to work out together.”

Kokichi mimicked snoring noises into a gigantic roast turkey laid out before him on the table. “I thought these were going to be a ‘few brief remarks’. You know how much I hate it when people who aren’t me lie, Kaito darling.”

Kaito shrugged. “Jackass with a point. This time. This is important stuff, guys. But it ain’t anything we should jump into right away. So, everyone! Your next missions. Make friends and stuff. And think about who should lead us, and like, what they should do. Usami has pushed back our schedule, she said she’ll have the flashback lights ready on Friday because of Reasons. So let’s try to meet both of those goals by then, and we’ll set up candidates.”

Kiyo could barely contain his unreasonably creepy glee, or form proper sentences, with all this social studies stuff going on before his eyes. “Humanity… what will you show me next? Excellent, indeed...”

“Okay, that’s- Oh, right. Kaede, you’re up. Final thing before we get going. I don’t even know what it’s about, but you wanted to go on last?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Kaede took a deep breath. “The timing on this is super bad, but I didn’t want to sit on this. It could be big. When my team explored Second Island, we found it just like we remembered. Save for a single detail, a new discovery.”

Kaito rubbed the back of his head. “What kinda discovery?”

"An engraved metal plate, by the side of the road. It was carved with the following message:

 **‘The dying leader will take the survivors to the new world.’** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for an experiment! Or rather, time to rip off an idea from Fangan Ronpas that I really like. So, I'm going to give each of the four protagonists of this ensemble story a Free Time Event with a character, and I'm taking requests from the audience. Feel free to vote for who you want Makoto, Hajime, Kaede, and Shuichi to hang out with, and nurture their hope and talent together, on this lovely tropical island.
> 
>  **Voting Time is over!** I have the first round of Social Links and will get working on them, plus some backup ideas in case I want to do more. Requests in general are still welcome, as well as all your lovely feedback. I really appreciate it all, seriously. Thank you.


	16. 1-6. Free Time Events I (Multiple)

Kyouko Kirigiri was a data point who stubbornly refused to fit.

She rejected social interaction.

She was brief, terse, even hostile.

That wasn’t unique among the Ultimates. However, the others had some cause for it that Shuichi Saihara, supposedly the Ultimate Detective, could at least guess at.

For instance, _he_ was withdrawn and shy due to self-loathing. It came from his issues about how revealing the truth was often more painful than living in the soft comfort of a lie. From experience of doing that over and over, and ruining peoples’ lives with his ‘help’. Getting them the ‘truth’ they begged for so desperately, only to see hope turn to despair.

The usual.

Kyouko was strongly group-averse. She left meetings early. She didn’t even eat with the rest of her class. Makoto said she always made food for herself and took it away somewhere.

Maybe she was so paranoid that she didn’t want anyone else preparing her food. A five-minute conversation with Teruteru would do that. Or was she so antisocial that she couldn’t stand to be around other people? Touko-tier psychosis and defensive, reflexive hostility?

Or, of course, the most troublesome explanation. That she was, like Kirumi, constantly busy. Kirumi could be seen anywhere at any hour. Even while Shuichi was on guard duty the past two nights, he saw her coming and going regularly. Figuring out what she was doing was easy. She was the Ultimate Maid.

Kyouko was rarely ever seen, though. Nobody could account for her. Everyone else had nothing but free time on this wonderful island paradise. It would be a total mystery, if not for Makoto’s clue.

‘How do they restock the supermarket’, huh?

Shuichi had no idea. He was just as curious. He wouldn’t be able to answer that, yet. He could use that question, however. To find another truth hidden underneath.

He spotted Kyouko in the lean pre-dawn of Tuesday morning. During both of their guard shifts, in fact. She was encamped in the trees outside the Rocketpunch Supermarket, complete with sleeping bag and supplies.

A stakeout.

When Shuichi approached, he was blinded by a flash and let out a girly scream. _“Uwaaaah!”_

“Oh. Forgot about that one.”

“G-Good morning, Kyouko,” Shuichi said, rubbing his eyes in irritation. He tugged down the brim of his black hat.

“Shuichi.”

Cameras all over in the trees.

When Shuichi regained his sight, he saw Kyouko pull off a set of night vision goggles. Combined with a metal case by her side, and there was little doubt that she’d helped herself to supplies from the Ultimate Imposter’s lab.

“All quiet?” He asked.

“Nothing so far. Here, or at the inn.”

That was why she felt confident enough to step out of the place she was supposedly guarding, to come hang out here instead. If she had cameras in this place, she must have had cameras in the cabins area too. She consulted her Hope Pad, and Shuichi saw a rotated glimpse of the cameras’ perspectives, one after another.

Shuichi wasn’t sure what to make of her, or her level of preparedness.

Or how to start a conversation with a girl.

Awkward moments passed.

Kyouko finally asked, “I suppose I’m suspicious, right? To get the attention of the Ultimate Detective?”

“I’m not here to pass judgement. Especially since I’m abandoning my post to come talk to you,” He admitted, smiling sheepishly. “I am curious. Seeing your setup has answered some questions, but brought up new ones. Um, if you’re up for talking? I don’t want to impose.”

“It gets really boring out here,” Kyouko admitted, with a sigh. “Hm. I wonder, have you been trying to figure out what my Ultimate talent is? And the others, as well? Could you do that just by the way we act?”

“Detectives aren’t godlike beings who can pluck data out of thin air or read minds,” Shuichi shook his head. “As cool as that would be. I can speculate, but without your Ultimate Lab or memories, it’s based on nothing.”

“I expected the Ultimate Detective to be a little more confident. Even arrogant. As if the world was a book you’ve already read a dozen times through.”

Shuichi shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll get like that. But I sincerely hope not. That really sounds boring.”

Kyouko nodded, somber as usual. She looked aside thoughtfully. “Any guesses for me? Even with reservations?”

She didn’t give him much to go on. “I can try. Are you the Ultimate Imposter?”

“I can’t be sure until I remember, but I can’t do what Tsumugi does.”

Anybody could have taken anything they liked from the Ultimate Impostor’s Lab. It wasn’t even locked. Having survival gear, a self-defense kit, and motion-sensor cameras only meant that Kyouko was good at looting. Hm. Survival gear. Survival. Independence. Aversion to people.

Paranoia.

Shuichi took a second stab. “How about the Ultimate Survivor?”

“Far more plausible.” Kyouko shook her head. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Interrogating somebody who doesn’t know whether or not your ‘accusation’ is the truth.”

The very first thing to pop into Shuichi’s mind was an anime Tsumugi was going on and on about, yesterday evening. “‘Why did you trap us in a virtual world?!’ ‘You know, I can’t even remember anymore’.” Shuichi shook his head. “Not likely. That would maybe be the lamest explanation for everything.”

“A virtual world, hm?” Kyouko smirked in the murky darkness of her little camping spot. “Interesting thought. I’m sure you’ve noticed that a lot of things about our situation can’t add up.”

Shuichi nodded. “There’s a number of impossibilities. I’m keeping a running tally. Nobody seems too bothered by it, though. Maybe they just think it’s all smoke and mirrors? Technology hidden as magic.”

“Or maybe they just haven’t noticed what we have.” Kyouko said. “Maybe they can’t. It seems absurd to even suggest it. But ‘once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains’…”

“... ‘however improbable, must be the truth.’” Shuichi sighed. “Of course, if we’re going to doubt reality itself, that’s nothing new. People have been wondering if we’re all computer programs, or fictional characters, since fiction was invented.”

“What do you make of such ideas?”

Shuichi took a moment to organize his rampaging thoughts into coherency. “I think... it might be fun to speculate, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh?”

“If we really are in some simulation, then the only possible way we’d know that is by comparing our experiences here, to what we know of how the real world works. Observation, measurement, and testing. However…”

“I get it. If we could be computer programs now, then we could just as likely have lived our entire lives in a simulation. And if we were always so immersed, then that would be our reality. Since our observations of reality are the only way we can know anything...”

“Angie doesn’t need to observe the world around her to know things,” Shuichi said. “She says that the god of her island, Atua, speaks directly through her.”

“I’m sure she does say that.”

“Is it really any more absurd than ‘maybe the TV is everyone’s minds’?”

Kyouko stared at him. “You’re making a lot of references. Are you really Tsumugi? Can you cosplay real people, too? Is that covered under the definition?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Shuichi smiled. “I can say I’m no imposter. But I’d say that either way. I think this conversation has proven my point, though.”

“That both of us are prone to too much navel-gazing?”

“Aside from ‘I think, therefore I am’, everything about the world ‘could’ be a lie. But if the simulation is really so lifelike, so fully fleshed, as to include every aspect of life? The entire spectrum of the human experience? Then at that point, it’s indistinguishable from reality.”

“Ergo, we should live our lives, and not worry about it.” Kyouko allowed a light smile to brush over her stoic face in reply to Shuichi’s own. “Point taken.”

“Ah, I wasn’t trying to lecture you or anything…”

“Work on that confidence, Shuichi, and you’ll be a great detective.” People kept saying that. Was he really the only one who didn’t think it was quite that simple? “I hope you’ll come by and visit me again on my lonely vigil.”

“I can do you one better than that. How about working together?”

“Having the Ultimate Detective as my ally? Given all the mysteries we face, it sounds like a no-brainer. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not really a friends person. As you may have noticed.”

“Everybody eats, and everybody sleeps.” Shuichi shook his head. “Maintaining a twenty-four hour stakeout operation, continuously, is going to impact your ability to do either. I can already see the bags underneath your eyes. I conjecture from the shakes that you aren’t eating enough lately.”

Kyouko took a deep breath to steady herself. “Well, I never doubted that you were sharp. I suppose if my options are to waste away and get nothing done, or bring in somebody else, then there is, in fact, only one option.”

“I won’t be able to do a full twelve hours. Uh. Frankly, it does sound soul-crushingly boring. Honestly, it’s really impressive that you’ve kept this up for days. When you need to tag out, I can pinch-hit. And keep an eye on the camera feeds. If you do whatever you did to your Hope Pad, to mine as well.”

“Tell Miu that I sent you,” Kyouko nodded. “And that unless she wants Those photos revealed to the world, she’ll accommodate your requests, as well.”

“Please tell me that’s a joke.”

“It is. Miu’s mad, but brilliant. She saw the benefit in helping me get into the Hope Pads, and a way to do so without any tools. If not, though, my method would have proven effective. Nothing is more important than the truth, right?”

The two of them were clearly very different people, with very different ways of looking at the world.

However, they could make common cause, and figure out the mysteries of Gopher Island.

Probably. At least, Kyouko was keen enough to do it. Shuichi hoped he wouldn’t slow her down.

They shared a handshake, Shuichi’s bare hand against her studded black leather glove.

* * *

 

When the larger Byakuya Togami answered the door, Kaede was relieved.

She smiled up towards the portly man in white, clapping her hands together. “Good afternoon, Byakuya.”

“Has something happened?”

“Huh? Oh, no. Nothing like that. I was just wondering if you had some time to hang out?”

“Hm? What brought this on?”

“My desire to talk with you? And, like, maybe become friends?”

“That’s it?”

“Do I need something more than that?”

“I suppose for somebody like you, that might suffice.” Byakuya adjusted his glasses with a meaty hand. “Well, I’m not like that faker. I won’t cower from peasants at the door, but instead face this challenge head on. I accept your invitation to ‘chill out’ in ‘my crib’, Kaede.”

Kaede rolled her eyes, and stepped inside the manor’s living room when invited.

The artificial fireplace was roaring. It crackled away, providing warm and cozy visuals and sound without actually cranking up the heat. Air conditioning chilled the room to the point where Kaede was grateful for her pink sweater vest. The room had comfortable furniture, and a big-screen TV hooked up to entertainment systems.

It was like somebody’s house. If that somebody was loaded. Plenty of wood walls and floors. Few carpets or traditional wallpaper. There was no laundry. The proud lord of a manor would have no use for it. He could just tell others to do it for him. There was a nice bedroom upstairs, though. The bed was large, and comfortable. Changes of clothes for Byakuya sat in racks on the closet.

Evenly split between black and white, as if the house itself couldn’t decide who was its rightful owner. Or as if the Imposter moved the appropriate items in when their turn came around.

“Okay, I have to know.” Kaede rubbed the back of her head. “Any progress on the Imposter thing?”

“Sadly, no. However, while I cannot yet prove it, I know within my heart that skinny, pasty, limp-wristed reject is dangerous.” Byakuya wagged his finger. “Everyone else thinks this is funny. There’s a betting pool appertaining to which of us is real. People are using Celestia’s casino chips in lieu of currency, you know.”

“I guess that makes sense. Even if everyone getting used to an actual casino is worrying,” Kaede admitted. She might have to add that to her stops today, especially since it was right on the same hillside. She worried about the boys who had been recruited as ‘workers’ there, and what conditions they faced under such an unpredictable lady.

“Mark my words, Akamatsu. If Skinny is permitted to run free, he will use this Lab to do great harm. Perhaps even ruin lives. He sees this world as nothing but a story in need of some ‘spice’. He will think nothing of the human cost of his meddling until it’s too late. A mockery of the true nobility required of a Togami.”

Kaede stared. “You really think he’s evil? Like, that’s not just some running joke? How would he use this Lab to hurt people?”

“Come come, this way.” Kaede knew that awkward feeling of having to squeeze past tight spaces, given her own plentiful width. Too plentiful. Those donuts from Hina’s lab wouldn’t help.

What a way to design a place for such a large man.

He took her to the largest room in the manor. The study. It rivalled Touko’s library, although it was less single-mindedly focused. Fiction books were on the outskirts,, compared to the main contents. Non-fiction reference materials.

“Another library? This makes three. This, mostly reference books and manuals. Miss Fukawa’s, focused on romance.” Kaede checked out a few of those, oh yes. “And New World Library on Second Island. My team checked that out yesterday. I mean, everyone’s probably checked it out by now. That name alone, combined with the clue we found? It was too obvious! More like a total bust. We found a wide selection of just, like, books. And a bunch of computers with no internet connection.”

“The rabbit is certainly very free in giving us equipment and machinery which may be turned against her own purposes.” Byakuya stroked his chin. “With only a token effort at security. What does that suggest to you, Akamatsu?”

Kaede was put on the spot, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out where he was going. “I’ve got it! Usami is not worried about us getting out of here. Or even contacting the outside world, or trying to gather info. She may not even think it’s possible.”

“Underestimating the Ultimates will be her undoing. However, as I said, she’s no villain. Perhaps misguided? Or, she may be really protecting us. All that sees can be seen, Akamatsu. Never forget that. Now! Come here, to this section in the back. I have the key.”

“Whoa.”

An entire section, locked behind glass, was comprised of files and folders.

“This is the true legacy of the Togami Group, and the reason I have little doubt that these documents are the same ones I have back home. These are the keys to the world.”

Kaede shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Everything in this section is non-fiction too. But you won’t believe it. Not with your commoner frame of reference, and simple way of looking at the world.”

The blonde pianist bristled. “I came to talk with you. Not get lectured, ordered around, and insulted!”

“Deal with it,” Byakuya replied, firm and undaunted. “You asked about true danger? Look no further. Akamatsu, these are the secrets of the world. Compiled by the elites who run it. Of which I am most certainly a member. Give me five minutes with these documents, and a phone, and I could start World War Three.”

Somebody beat him to the punch out there.

“Seriously?”

“Do I seem like I’m joking? Do I look like a jolly old fellow to you?”

Kaede smirked and leaned forward. “Well, if you put on a red suit and hat, and a big fake beard… You know, I bet Tsumugi has that sort of stuff in her Lab. I could check, if you wanted?~”

“I order you not to. Don’t bring it up to her at all. Or that plain cosplayer’s gaze will sweep towards me like the Eye of Sauron.” Byakuya sighed. “As if I don’t have enough women swooning shamelessly over me.”

Oh, right!

Ibuki!

Kaede got swept up in Byakuya’s own pace, and drifted away from the reason she was even here. Well, one of the two. “You’re talking about Ibuki, right? I think it, and she, are mega cute. You could do a lot worse.”

“That’s most certainly true.” Byakuya sighed. “We don’t lack for examples of ‘worse’. Honestly, a rich man will never want for the attention of women. It is expected. Much like the superiority of rich over poor. Before now, it’s always been about money, status, fame. And little wonder, hm? Not everyone can appreciate the beauty of being plus-sized like we can.”

Kaede really didn’t want to be lumped into that category, thanks. Was that why Kaede was being treated so well, compared to the average ‘peasant’?

The thought distressed her significantly more than the idea that the Illuminati’s own private library was sitting there. Waiting to be mined for the secrets to world domination. Well, mainly because that idea was transparently dumb. stupid, and dumb. Whereas being put into the ‘fat’ category, however silly she knew it was, played on some of her most basic concerns.

“But Ibuki’s different?” She asked, hasty for a subject change. The fact that Ibuki herself had asked her to come here, and scope out this Byakuya’s feelings about the rock star, was a bonus.

“She appears to be attracted to me based on appearance and personality.” Byakuya shook his head. “And makes no bones of it, whenever we meet. She’s forward in a way you would expect of foreigners. She is certainly, whatever else you may say about her childish antics, interesting.”

Kaede leaned forward again. “Interesting enough to consider going out with, hm?~”

“Feh. While the idea of going out with Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny, may be like a dream to any woman, Akamatsu, yourself no doubt included…” Kaede had never once thought that. And never would. She knew better than to object, though. “It wouldn’t work. Unfortunately, I have a… darkness that follows me. A checkered past. One I don’t dare to speak to anyone about.”

He looked far off into the distance, past the dusty walls of the study.

“I don’t want her to realize I’m not like the man she truly admires, after all. Or to get caught up in my past.”

What did that mean?

Kaede stared at him.

“Hm. Ah, nevermind. This is all a diversion anyway. Akamatsu, you may wonder what has caused me to be so frank with you. About me, and about this library. It’s simple. The information in here is dangerous, but that is not my main consideration. It’s the imposter. He may try to get rid of me, if he realizes what he could do with this data. If he gets me out of the way, and burns this place down, nobody would know what he was planning. You are my insurance. A trump card he won’t see coming. A wrench, fit to toss into the gears of whatever machination he may undertake.”

Kaede shook her head. “Byakuya, I know you don’t think highly of the guy, but come on. ‘Get rid of you’? If you wanted to do these detective novel routines with somebody, Shuichi’s got plenty of free time. Even with that Angie and the others hanging around him.”

“Sounds like I’m not the only one with… love troubles.” Why did he have to say it like that, and with such a smirk. “Come now, Akamatsu. It’s painfully obvious to everyone. You should strike while the iron is hot.”

“I definitely don’t know what you mean by that,” Kaede insisted, puffing up into a pout, hands on her hips. “But even if I did, then, don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m more just, like, worried. I guess you think Angie’s forward, huh?”

“Mmh.” Byakuya nodded. “To say the least. While you both share a particular interest in weak boys, at least you seem determined to help him. Even if it may in fact push Shuichi into other social circles, and away from your grasp. Angie, on the other hand…”

“It does kinda feels like a cult might form around her?” Kaede sighed. “That’s probably unkind. I mean, she is helping the Black Hats. Shuichi has nothing but good things to say about her when we talk.”

A fact that

Didn’t.

Bother.

Kaede.

“Just be careful, Akamatsu.” Byakuya unlocked the glass sliding door, and stepped into the sealed section. “Good intentions pave the road to hell. Now! You should come back here to examine more of these files. The more you know, the more effectively you service my purposes. For now, there is one that you must read and commit to memory. You may not remove any document from this section. But take as long as you need. Here.”

He paused. “Oh, and if we do make it back to the outside world, and the Ultimate Hunt doesn’t get us first? If you read any of the files marked with blue tabs, you may be killed to preserve those secrets. Do take care.”

Sure. Killed by the worldwide conspiracy of rich people who really run the world, huh?

Kaede was at way greater risk of spontaneously developing cancer, or being hit by a falling meteor, than that! Byakuya was probably just making this all up to sound important.

She looked down at the label of the thick folder.

“Sparkling Justice?”

* * *

 

Makoto never knew how to feel about Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier.

Mukuro herself didn’t appear to have feelings. That was just the surface level. Even so, she did a great job acting like a robot.

So really, nothing had changed between them. Just because they were going out together.

In the evening.

Alone, to Chandler Beach.

Second Island’s private, protected beachfront. Bracketed by tall cliffs to either side and only accessible by a tunnel near the Route 53 Diner. Makoto knew their names, just like he knew the nice whitewashed villa-style beach house was named the Ross House. He didn’t know why these places had names, or who decided on them. But he had to consult his Hope Pad’s map to guide them there. So he knew.

Mukuro only moved when he did, following behind him at a set distance like a video game character. Having somebody behind him was real comforting for a guy who had already been ambushed. Once for real, and once as a prank.

Which inevitably led him to realizing that, on her request, Makoto was leading the two of them to a distant, isolated point. Where they could be alone.

The Ultimate Soldier.

And the Ultimate Literally Some Guy.

He should have been happy about this opportunity to get her away from her overbearing sister.

However, Makoto saw Mukuro try to fistfight a giant robot.

It wasn’t that he didn’t approve of women being strong, and even dangerous. He was, in fact, friends with Sayaka. Who apparently decided death threats were how friends could pal around.

Nothing was what it appeared to be on Gopher Island, though. Maybe he’d get to know Mukuro and discover she was actually a mega-softie. Junko was always saying something to that effect, so maybe it was really true.

“So.” Makoto scratched his chin. “Pretty awesome place, huh?”

Mukuro scanned the area. “Protected harbor. A pier. Perfect place to dock a boat.”

“Huh, good catch.” Makoto just assumed that you could fish off that or something. There was, in stark contrast to the hills and cliffs ringing most of the shorefront, plenty of open sand and shallow, calm water to dock in. “You think anybody’s landed here recently? Was this how we got here?”

“Impossible to tell,” Mukuro replied, with a shrug.

Now Makoto had to figure out something else to say. At least exploring a place that had already been explored gave him something to do. The equivalent of shuffling papers on a desk to appear busy. Before long, they concluded, yep. The beach house was just the same as expected. As the others reported, the bathroom was indeed out of order, and the building’s water pipes were off. None of the sinks or showers worked.

“Under renovation,” Makoto sighed, reading the sign drawn in crayon on the back door. “Half the things on this island are under renovation. Who would have expected those mechs were for building stuff, rather than blowing it up?”

“Me. The Exisals weren’t designed as military vehicles,” Mukuro remarked. “Or at least, not primarily.”

“But they’ve got rocket launchers and stuff.”

“Must have been added to the design at some point.” Mukuro squatted down on her muscular legs, grabbing a stick and drawing something in the pure white sands. A diagram. “Those platforms are wildly unbalanced. Look. Badly topheavy. As if you made a functional walker mech with proper balancing, and then haphazardly attached equipment.”

“No kidding? Whoa. You figured that out? I guess that explains why Sakura could knock them over like they were toys.”

“That’s down to Ogami as much as any design flaws,” Mukuro responded flatly.

“I suppose, yeah. Uh. I didn’t mean to make this, like, ‘grill Mukuro day’, but I’m curious. What else could you tell from their design?”

Mukuro shook her head. “I feel much more comfortable discussing this anyway.”

“Apparently! I’ve never, ever seen you talk this much before, Mukuro. It’s awesome.”

The Ultimate Soldier shook her head. “No, I’m just like Tsumugi or Chihiro. I just let my hobbies get the better of me. Or rather, it’s all I know.” She sighed, and squatted down again. “Here’s what else I determined.” She drew little stick person, who she detailed down to having puffy hair, and hair clips, just like a certain fashion model.

“Whoa. These things are piloted?” Makoto was astonished, but after a moment, something horrible dawned on him. “Then… down on the beach, when Usami blew them away with her attack… Oh my gosh...” He went pale, remembering that all sixteen of the robots had been utterly obliterated.

None of the Ultimates realized at the time that they were fighting actual people.

Mukuro shook her head impassively. “Based on their behavior, I conclude with ninety-seven percent certainty that the Monosals were not being piloted. Their behavior was consistent with autonomous AI. Their moves were predictable and repetitive, which is part of why the Ultimates fought them to a standstill, along with the fact that they were clearly holding back.”

Makoto let out a sigh. “So those things could be piloted, but they were empty when the battle took place and they got blown up?”

“Yes,” Mukuro nodded. “Although I fail to see why it matters. They were enemies.”

“Well, the Monosals weren’t trying to kill any of us, right?”

Mukuro’s ice-blue eyes locked with his. “Their goal wasn’t to kill us right then. Make no mistake. They would have forced us into some kind of killing game if you, Nagito, and I hadn’t stopped them. I thought that showed unexpected bravery, from both of you.”

Makoto scratched his chin and laughed, nervously. “Oh, yeah. I guess the three of us are, like, totally heroes, huh?”

“Civilians who perform a feat can be called heroes. A soldier who just does her job shouldn’t expect a gold star every time,” Mukuro replied, as if she’d recited that speech before. Or she was quoting somebody. “It’s like telling your car ‘good job’ after driving it. Absurdity.”

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I kinda do that sometimes, though.”

Mukuro had no reply. Having finished her explanation, she stood up and started following Makoto around again.

After it seemed like they were making some real progress and having an actual conversation! He couldn’t let this chance slip past. Who knew how many days he would have before he could just talk to her again?

“I think that even if something was made for a purpose, if it does it great, you can call it, like, awesome,” Makoto opined. Regretting that he only knew how to express things like, well. Like a normal person. Ideas like the ones he was brushing up against, and trying to get across to her, seemed bigger than that. Like what he was saying was the equivalent of Usami’s crayon-scribble sign.

“It seems pointless to bring a weapon to the beach,” Mukuro replied, looking out upon the vast beauty of a calm ocean stretching before her, to the horizon. “Unless you were expecting to be attacked.”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Mukuro’s gaze swept over towards Makoto, who laughed nervously. “Nevermind! I was just, uh, thinking that beaches don’t have a great track record so far.”

She shrugged. “True.”

“I don’t know if I’d call you ‘just’ a weapon though, Mukuro. Like, all kidding aside, you’re just as much of a person as any of the Ultimates here.”

Mukuro shook her head. “Technically, that’s right. However, during my training, I didn’t just learn how to do things. I didn’t even stop at why I had to do them. Our education was really about how to look at the world, so that things are… simple. Easy to manage. So, I’m a weapon, while you’re a person.”

“And what’s Junko?”

“Junko is Junko.”

“I guess some things are just more complicated, I get it. Hey, I bet the whole reason Junko wanted us to go to the beach was so that, like, you could do something out of the norm. You know, break out.”

“She was mad at me, though.” Mukuro looked down, and her eyes darkened. “Junko was very forceful.”

Yeah. Mukuro’s little sister did have moments where she could peel paint. “I’ve got my own way of looking at things. While I’m a pretty average guy, and I just tend to like whatever’s popular, there is one thing that stands out. People call me an optimist. I think Junko was just trying to give you a little push out of the nest. I don’t think she’s actually mad.”

Mukuro stopped to consider this, and fell silent for a long time, looking out on the burgeoning sunset. Without any clouds to get in the way, they were just presented with a painting of orange and red hues. “I can tell what Junko really wants, and what she’s really thinking, Makoto. It’s part of being useful. However, today, I couldn’t tell. She was… mixed up. So I can’t say for certain that you’re wrong. Because of that… I would rather that you were right.”

“Yeah, that’s the way! I’m sure it’s all fine. It means Junko wants you to, like, exist outside of her. Maybe she’s even worried about that. You do act kinda like a robot. Uh, no offense.”

“Kiibo is scared of me and avoids contact at any cost, so it’s not unreasonable.” Mukuro did something truly surprising, then.

She smiled.

“So when you think things are terrible, just remember. Maybe they’re not.” Makoto still felt like he wasn’t doing a great job at actually putting his thoughts to words, but enough got across. He was relieved.

“The Sergeant Major would have said your head was in the clouds. And made you do two thousand push-ups,” Mukuro replied.

Makoto reclined back in his beach chair with a sigh, sipping his water bottle. They’d have to remember to toss this in the trash on their way back, or set off that wailing hell-demon litter alarm again.

“Well, he’s not wrong, but I don’t think he’s right, either. It’s, like, hope is something you can have even when things are actually terrible. I was really afraid back during the battle, since I’ve never, ever been in anything like that before. I’ve only been in maybe three fights, ever. If you count the times I stood there getting hit as a fight. Like the principal did. But because you were there, Mukuro, and all the others, and we all worked together? I knew we could do it.”

“You seemed pretty nervous at the time.”

“Okay, ‘knew’ is too strong. I desperately hoped we could do it. But hey, sometimes hope pays off big. You’ll never get anywhere just expecting to fail, or expecting things to suck. That’s just what I think, though.”

Somehow, in spite of all odds, and the vast gulf of their differences as people, this odd pair had a good time at the beach. It was nightfall before the two of them made their way back through the tunnel, past the roadside diner, and towards the bridges leading back to First Island.

On the walk to Chandler Beach, Makoto thought the silence, and lack of idle chit-chat, was awkward. Now, he thought of it more like comfortable silence. Thanks to that positive point of view. Or wishful thinking. He didn’t care which, they both got him to the same place.

There was just one more thing to do before heading back.  
  
“I haven’t personally seen that engraved plaque Kaede was talking about. It should be right off this side-path, huh.” Even though it wasn’t marked on the map as a landmark, it wasn’t too hard to find. It was right near another of those sightseeing spots, like the ones the crew found on First Island. “Do you mind if we check it out real quick?”

“I don’t mind.”

They found the plate smashed beyond all recognition, with its message utterly destroyed.

Mukuro later said it looked like an Exisal stomped on it.

* * *

 

Days passed.

No more attacks from outside. No moves from the traitors.

No sign there even were traitors among them.

No more meddling from Usami.

The night guard shifts passed without incident. People went out during them, in spite of Ishimaru’s warnings.

It was just the forty-eight Ultimate students in their languid island paradise, and nothing but free time. Considering all the landmarks and territory opened up to them already, it was easy to find ways to occupy oneself. With company, or alone.

Even the Ultimates who wanted to keep their guard up found it difficult. It was impossible to hold one emotional state forever. Especially when it was anxiety, or fear, or being on your guard. It all loses edge, weathered away by hours and days.

It was impressive how fast some acclimated to their new living situation. Sure, they didn’t have a choice. Even so, many of Ultimates started thinking of Gopher Island as a fun vacation.

Hajime was not the sort of person who could brush aside the burning questions. Not when he could still feel the void where part of him should be.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. There were three others. Only Rantaro Amami and Hajime were the sort of people who did things like talk to others or group up.

So naturally, they did.

Teruteru kindly offered his Lab for the new, daily meetings of the Memory Loss Club. Which meant that while Hajime and Rantaro discussed how much they didn’t achieve, and how many clues they couldn’t uncover, they could at least enjoy a snack, and some strong cups of coffee, while they did so.

Rantaro leaned back, stretching out, and causing his blue black-striped shirt to lift slightly, revealing a pale, lanky figure. His body and face were like Nagito’s in a lot of ways. He even had the same intense stare. “It’s impossible to determine why the flashback light knocked us on our asses, and didn’t do that to the others. Or Maki, for that matter. Even though she’s lost her memories just like us. Not until we figure out how it works, full stop.”

Hajime nodded, chewing on a splendid frosted donut. Teruteru was really ramping up his sweets production lately. While muttering things about ‘tha’ swimming harlot takin’ away valuable customers’ or something. And Avril Lavigne? “Any luck on doing that?”

Rantaro shook his head. “Shining a light into somebody’s eyes should only convey the information ‘whoa, that’s bright, I can’t see’. Not stimulate parts of the human brain.”

When he tried to ask the crew’s three technical wizards about it, Chihiro, Kazuichi, and Miu all agreed that the fundamental proposed mechanism behind the flashback light was hogwash.

Miu didn’t use that word, she used others.

Many others, some of which Rantaro claimed he would never be able to forget for as long as he lived.

“Every day’s a school day, Hajime. It’s all a part of our ongoing education.”

“Yeah, sure. The best college in the world, having finally surpassed Harvard, Yale, and all those schools not fixated on Ultimates and Talent, decides to throw some of their incoming class onto an island. To hide from the Ultimate Hunt. I’d call it all bullshit, but…”

Rantaro nodded in understanding. “We both saw it. We saw the real HPA go up in flames. Our own guys bombed it to kill some of the hunters, and throw them off our own trail. We didn’t just see those things, like some movie. We lived them.”

“However we came to these memories, there’s no doubt at all that they’re legit,” Hajime agreed. “Much as I wish they weren't. Well, Friday’s almost here. What do you think we’ll remember next?”

Rantaro shrugged. “Hopefully, some good news. Speaking of, any more progress on the missing photo case?”

Hajime peered down, deeply into his coffee, hoping it would swirl around and give him some sign. Nope. “None. I mean, as soon as we heard one of Mahiru’s photos had gone missing, we had the short-list of suspects. Most of whom are in fact short, and annoying. Nobody admits to anything, though. Kokichi and Hiyoko accused each other. Which means they’re either in on it together, or neither of them knows a thing.”

“The latter,” Rantaro said. “I’m not even sure if it’s fair to suspect anyone. After what happened with the engraved message? Usami was always going to be the prime suspect for the theft of the photo that Mahiru took of the message. It was our only actual, physical evidence.”

“If Kaede, Kokichi, and everyone else who saw it didn’t all confirm each others’ story, then it may as well have been a hoax for all we’d know,” Hajime said glumly. “Hm. Do you think Kokichi set this whole thing up from the start? Just to lead us along? He’s in your class, you probably talk to him a lot.”

“Way too much. No, I don’t think that’s likely. The message was engraved, as if by industrial tools or heavy equipment. Kokichi has neither. Because there aren’t any. At least, none in our area. Usami probably has some, and the Exisals have that capability, but that’s it.”

“Then that just brings up the most troubling question.” Hajime finished one cup completely, only to start in on another. “If Usami’s the only one among us who could have made it, then why did she get rid of it?”

Rantaro shook his head. “I wish I had any answer for that. It’s a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit together. Or rather, it’s a puzzle where we’re only given some of the pieces. Again. Until we find more pieces, we might have to table the matter.”

“Same goes for trying to figure out the message itself?”

“Its wording is both suspiciously vague, and suspiciously specific, all at once. And we don’t know what it’s referring to, so yeah. It might as well be gibberish until we figure out more.”

Hajime sighed. “Alright, so. Same as last meeting. We agree that we’re fucked, the mysteries are too deep, and we should give up.”

“Yep.”

Hajime slumped back into his chair. Not in defeat. He didn’t feel like they’d failed, just because they couldn’t fill in any of the copious blanks yet.

When he was with Rantaro, he felt calm.

Like the mysterious, mature guy’s mellow attitude was helping Hajime learn to accept certain things. They’d keep trying. It was just, if you pushed against a brick wall, and failed to move it, then that wasn’t really your fault. Except if you expected the bricks to topple right away.

Rantaro rubbed the back of his head, tussling his own messy avocado-green hair. “I propose we compare the memories we still do have. For instance, our lives before Hope’s Peak. I guess this isn’t really part of our ‘investigation’, though. Since it’s kinda personal. So if you’re not up for going there that’s fine.”

“No, it’s alright. I still remember my family, and friends from high school, thankfully. If anything, you’re just at risk of falling asleep. I don’t have some big family secret, or massive drama with my parents or anything. Mom and dad just raised me to be the best person that I could be.”

Hajime smiled at fond memories. He felt true relief that, at least, Mom and Dad came to mind when he thought about them. Considering they’d been living together just days ago, their faces were still clear in his mind.

“Sometimes I lived up to their expectations. Sometimes I did dumb shit and got in trouble. Try to keep this a secret from the others, but uh. My family’s pretty well-off. Rich. So rich, that a few times, I’d have probably been in way deep trouble if they hadn’t bailed me out. Once or twice, literally.”

“Whoa. Those kinds of incidents sound like great stories for a party,” Rantaro commented. “I knew I had a good eye for friends, picking the rich guy to hang out with. Who knows how to have a good time, too. Nagito’s a lucky guy in more ways than the obvious.”

Hajime laughed nervously. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else. It’s not, like, a thing. But I’d rather be treated like everyone else. Sonia has the right idea, I was so impressed by her attitude.”

“Here I was over here, getting worried we had a third Byakuya on our hands,” Rantaro said, breaking out into a grin. “Sure, sure. I’ll keep quiet. As long as you promise not to tell anyone that I have twelve sisters.”

“Twelve?!”

‘Twelve.” Rantaro glanced meaningfully towards the kitchen area. As with most hours of the day, cookers and stoves could be heard sizzling and roaring through the open doorway, and Rantaro lowered his voice a bit. “So, as you can tell, I’d rather nobody else knew that. Especially our gracious host.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Man, that is actually straight out of an anime. I bet if you told Tsumugi, she could even tell you which one.”

Rantaro shook his head. “Twelve sisters, no other brothers, just me. It sounds great, huh?” He sighed. “Tell me, Hajime. Only child?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Rantaro’s thousand-yard stare was terrifying. His green eyes seemed to almost glow against the shadowed gloom of the rest of his face. “Then there’s nothing I can possibly say to make you understand.”

He looked off into the distance, out the windows, towards the sea.

To prevent things from falling into awkward silence, Hajime soldiered on. ”A-All throughout high school I was in courses to prepare me to try for Hope’s Peak. With no guarantee I’d even get a shot. Since, you know. Scouting only. No way to apply directly.”

Rantaro nodded. “That lines up with my own memories. Well, I spent a lot of time abroad. Maybe more than I did in Japan? I get the feeling that’s not average.”

“Not at all. What, you like, travelled around? Did your family move to different places?”

“It wasn’t like that. It was more like, mom and my sisters travelled a lot. Dad and I just tried to keep up. Exploring places. Long-lost islands, desert ruins, even temples in the jungle and stuff. Hey, what’s that look for?”

“You’re making this up, aren’t you? Your mom sounds pretty Tomb Raider.”

“No way! Swear, it’s the honest truth.” Rantaro held up his hands plaintively, and Hajime got a better look at the many rings on his fingers. Black metal, not at all like an engagement or wedding ring. “I like to mess around with the people I consider friends. But I hope I’m seen as an honest person, generally.”

“Same.” Hajime nodded. “Maybe a little too honest. That sounds like humble-bragging, but it can be a real issue. I’ve already butted heads a few times with the more, uh, forceful members of my class. I wish I had your ability to just go with the flow.”

“You and Kaede both need like ten chill pills.” Rantaro shrugged. “That’s not to say wanting to be proactive is bad. It’s admirable. But too much of anything can be fatal. When you experience all sorts of stuff, then you get used to a lot. There’s really no substitute for experience, I guess.”

“Hm. Does that mean Nagito’s gone through a lot? You and him act alike.”

“Tough to say without just asking him.” Rantaro fished in the pockets of his baggy khakis for a moment, before successfully producing a shiny metal object. In the shape of the Christian cross, on a chain like a necklace. “Here, Hajime. A little gift, from me to you. For putting up with my junior detective routine even though Shuichi’s already on the case, and we didn’t get anywhere.”

Hajime’s first instinct was to beg off, but Rantaro didn’t look like he was prepared to take any answer but ‘thank you, what a nice gift’. “Thanks, Rantaro. Wow, is that actual latin?”

“It’s from one of those forgotten corners of the earth my family loves to search. Lately, we’ve been looking harder than ever, because… well. We lost something really important to us. It prompted me to take a more active role on expeditions. I’ll tell you about that later, maybe. But for now, have a souvenir of my travels.”

“Sure.”

“It’s a little reminder that we've all got our own cross to bear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your thoughts about the FTEs. This will definitely become a staple of the story going forward. I might not always have it strictly be a vote where the most ones wins, but it's definitely something I'll be happy to take into advisement, going forward.
> 
> Also, I've finally begun the side-stories collection for this fic as a separate story in and of itself! Vignettes from the Voyage, listed as the second in The Voyage series this fic belongs to, will contain, well. Anything I don't think goes in the main storyline, or from the perspective of a non-viewpoint character. Side content, which can range from fluff to smut at my own discretion. Or lack thereof.
> 
> Speaking of, the first chapter, uh. I don't know. At least I get to break ground with a new ship tag. Check it out if you like, I figured the separate format was best, and if you're not into such things, that's fine too. Thanks for all your support, everyone!


	17. 1-7. Overdrawn at the Flashback Bank (Hajime)

“Due to the global state of emergency declared by the Future Foundation…”

_Fire in the sky._

_Meteors were falling down in droves, massive trails of fire carving up the midday sky above Tokyo._

_Boring._

_Each impact was the same as a small nuke._

_There were hundreds._

_It was cataclysm on no scale that Hajime had ever witnessed before._

_The world was ending._

“... estimated casualties in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area alone are set to pass…”

_Irrelevant._

_The skyline of Tokyo, one of the largest remaining cities on the planet, was burning. The grainy video feed, overlaid with text and cast to a news anchor’s voice, zoomed wildly back and forth._

“... Director Kirigiri has offered a full pardon to any surviving Remnants of Despair who will come forward…”

_No doubt._

_The person holding the camera was too frightened to steadily track the latest oncoming storm of meteors. Hajime felt a wave of disgust._

“... at this time, it’s important to unite, and put aside old hatreds. For the good of all mankind…”

_Pitiful._

_Hajime reached up, and tapped the power button, causing the storefront television to fall silent._

_The reflection on the black flatscreen display wasn’t him, though._

_Red eyes, incredibly long hair that billowed in the wind. Who was that?_

_The reflection opened his mouth. Hajime felt himself speak._

**_“How boring.”_ **

* * *

 

Hajime Hinata, Ultimate ???, woke up drenched in sweat.

Part of that could be attributed to his very warm, soft, large pillows. A pair of thighs, evidently. Since when he opened his eyes, he was staring up at somebody.

Not an unfamiliar position for him, minus the lap pillow. Especially given its surprising source.

The Ultimate Gamer, Chiaki Nanami, looked on him with concern that melted as he awoke.

Framed in the sunlight from a window, she was his guardian angel.

Chiaki smiled gently. “Hey.”

It was humiliating for a guy to need taking care of. Especially on a regular basis. He was even getting used to the idea, which was dangerous. None of that mattered, though. Not really. Not compared to what he saw. His mind was still racing from painfully vivid memories. Compared to that, he wouldn’t sweat the small stuff.

He was too busy breaking out into a warm sweat about, oh. Just to pick the major topics. Why he looked like Satan. Or why the world was on fire.

If only it was a dream. Those were just, from his layman’s understanding, stories the mind told itself for fun. What he saw was real. He knew it. He knew it just as much as he knew that his head was currently resting on Chiaki’s lap, making an impression on the soft, deep skin beneath her skirt.

Chiaki’s purple hair just about matched the shade of her eyes, and both faintly glowed in the sunlight she was under. It also demonstrated how ghostly pale she was, with soft skin free of many blemishes at all. Hajime even took note of that little pixel rocket ship hair clip.

She was soft, warm, and calming.

He needed a presence like that to still the rapid thundering of his heart.

So much presence. He could barely see her face. She had to lean forward. That, too, was necessary, good, and wonderful.

“Morning, Hajime.”

Hajime blinked a few times to clear his head, and reached up to his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut, and groaned in pain. His head felt like a well-beaten drum. “Usami. Of freaking course.”

“Yeah,” Chiaki admitted. Her smile faded. “Didn’t go well.”

Somehow, releasing all the rude things he wanted to say seemed _inappropriate_. Like he’d be swearing in front of his grandma, or daughter. An exceedingly weird thing to think about Chiaki, given she was around his age. A university student, a mid-twenties adult. Very obviously so.

Old enough to drink, volunteer for the self-defense forces, or vote, ranked in the order in which it was likely for somebody their age to do such a thing.

It was an attitude thing. She acted very sheltered.

No, sheltered wasn’t even the word for it. She lacked basic concepts that anyone who lived in Japan and grew up there would get. Once, in the weird interactions that passed for conversation with her, Chiaki revealed that she didn’t know what Girls’ Day was.

Despite, almost assuredly, being, you know. A girl.

Hajime found a better way to give voice to his bitter disappointment in their white, stuffed benefactor. “She’s either our enemy, or so incompetent that she might as well be.”

“Bit harsh,” Chiaki objected, her voice soft and gentle. Which wasn’t any different from how she normally spoke. As if she was liable to fall asleep at any moment instead of the boy in her lap. “It’s only been maybe twenty minutes since you passed out from your stamina damage being greater than your HP.”

Chiaki produced the flashback light and looked it over.

Given that Hajime had been out for hours on Monday, it was a big upgrade.

He wasn’t about to throw any parades.

Hajime looked around finally. He was still in Teruteru’s lab. The New Orleans cajun-style restaurant called Lagniappe. The crew’s preferred meeting hall. It was big enough to host everyone, comfortably, and they got world-class catering.

No brainer there.

… What were they all doing before the flashback light? Some kind of meeting?

Hajime’s head was scrambled. The vivid memories which had been pulled up were still playing over and over. In fact, when he tried to recall recent memories, they popped up instead, like his mind was having input and output errors like a machine. On the inside of his eyelids, visions of the meteor storm were projected like movies.

Disaster movies. That’s really what they looked like. Maybe ‘he’ was even watching a movie in that flashback?

It seemed absurd to recover a memory of himself just watching some movie and being bored by it, but this was Usami here. It was entirely possible something had fired wrong inside either that dumb flashlight, or his head.

It was also entirely possible what he was seeing was the truth. Although he wanted to say it had to be fiction, there was no way it was real, he couldn’t rule that out.

There were a few glaring issues with it, if it was legit. He never remembered looking like that, first off. He also didn’t recall that time half of Tokyo was levelled by meteors.

So much still refused to fit together.

The other amnesiacs were not present, implying they recovered quicker. A lot of others were missing, too. Most of the Ultimates were still around, sitting in groups, talking to each other, trying to figure things out. Murmuring among themselves in disbelief.

The air was heavy, in spite of air conditioning and open windows both generating quite a pleasant cross-breeze.

Everyone had to be worried sick, that was only natural- “Hey, Hajime! Glad you’re alright!” Kaito said, just as full of energy as usual. “Goddamn rabbit. She said the second one would be safe!”

Kaede arrived next to Kaito, looking down in motherly concern. “If we knew this would happen again, we wouldn’t have exposed you to it.”

Although it was an excellent place to be, even Hajime couldn’t just leave his head in a girl’s lap while talking to people. His cheeks heated up. He sat up, and took Kaito’s offered hand, pulling him back to his feet. “If it’s like the last one, I’ll be fine. I just need to… sort things out. In my head. It’s important that we’re all on the same page. Speaking of which… uh, what happened before the flashback light?”

Sayaka covered her mouth. “You… don’t remember? But it just happened.”

“You’re kidding me,” Kazuichi grumbled. “Did Usami somehow fuck up even worse than before?”

“Not unprecedented,” Kiyo murmured to himself, chuckling darkly. “Hopefully, Hajime is just confused. A quick recap should jog his memory. Shall I?”

“Sure, go for it,” Kaito nodded. “Emphasis on the quick part, though, Kiyo. We gotta talk about the memories afterwards.”

“I understand.” The black-masked Ultimate Anthropologist took a moment, and then spun off into a story with practiced ease. “After a stunning, world-class breakfast, we began the meeting. Primary items on the agenda were setting the terms and candidates for our first election, receiving the next flashback light and recovering more memories, and having Usami check on our progress towards the next set of Hope Fragments.”

“All three of those had problems,” Kaede sighed. “The usual, for the elections. Kokichi and Kaito got into it.”

“Gonna beat his ass one of these days, real soon,” Kaito grumbled. “Although maybe I’ll wait until after the election. Just so it don’t look like I’m afraid of the little twerp. Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars, can defeat anybody in anything! If I really put my mind to it! Even crying children know of my prowess.”

“ _Kukuku._ What unfortunate wording. Ahem. The group decided to just have one overall leader. As a result, Kaede agreed to step down. Kaito put himself forward for election. He was challenged by a number of… fringe candidates.”

“As in, people who want it badly, but who aren’t actually going to win any popularity contests,” Makoto explained. “Byakuya and Celes, Kokichi and Hiyoko…”

“Honestly, I don’t think that race will be terribly exciting. Kaito is a shoe-in on inertia, and frankly, that role is more chairman than policy-maker. Those will be the three class representatives. They will make decisions by majority vote. If any such dilemnas come up. While the Captain, probably Kaito, will preside. I suggested he should be the ‘President’ instead for that reason…”

“Captain sounds cooler!” Kaito declared, mashing his fists together.

“Indeed, then.” Kiyo sighed in barely-masked contempt. “I also won’t bother to note that this setup allows Kaito to accumulate glory and respect, without doing much work for it.”

“Thanks, man! I appreciate you not saying that kinda stuff and confusin’ people.”

Kaede smacked her forehead. “Is it too late to change what I’m running for?”

Kiyo shook his head. “Yes, because some of us are gone. We no longer have a quorum. For Class 1, the serious contenders are Taka, and, well. After that, the next one likely to win would be Junko. She has a forceful personality. Taka seems the obvious, conventional choice for a leader, though.”

“I tried to get Sayaka to run, too, but well.” Makoto shrugged. “No dice.”

“I’m not cut out for the spotlight,” Sayaka Maizono, nationally-recognized Ultimate Idol, a mega pop-star and international celebrity, said. Somehow, not bursting out into flames on the spot. “Really, as Kiyo says, it sounds like work. I’d rather focus on solving mysteries than getting into some popularity contest and making enemies.”

Isn’t that literally what she did? That was the Idol industry in a nutshell, from what he heard.

“Fair enough. For your own Class 2, of course, Byakuya, the fat one, has proclaimed that he is destined to rule. However, he was challenged. Sonia, the beguiling foreign princess, has risen against him. Supported by the most… eccentric of campaign managers and spokesmen.”

Kazuichi sobbed into an oil-stained hankie. “Why… Miss Sonia… what does she see in that chuuni guy…”

Hajime shook his head. “No way. Wait, it’s… slowly coming back. That speech…”

“I have learned many truths about humanity,” Kiyo said. “Primarily? There is no accounting for taste. Ahem. And for my own Class 53, Kaede has decided to run there. She has a strong lead.”

Kaede rolled her eyes, smiling. “I guess people think I’m doing alright.”

“Damn right!” Kaito said, smacking her on the back. And getting smacked back, himself. Not on the back. Hajime had called that one- “Ow!”

“Learn how to treat girls more softly, sheesh,” Kaede puffed up, pouting.

“With such a strong working relationship between our two Captains, who could break up such a formidable team? Kukuku. Really, that accounts for most of the leadership in my class. Kokichi’s title would seem to have little value, if he continually alienates himself from, well. Everyone, at all times. Really, the only possible threat would be Angie.”

Hajime glanced over at Shuichi. “Two friends running against each other, huh? Better watch out, Shuichi.”

Chiaki nodded. “If you have to pick who gets the stuffed animal, keep it for yourself. You might not get the best ending, but you'll also avoid getting a nice boat for your troubles…”

Shuichi didn't reply, save for a nervous laugh.

Hajime was close to falling back to sleep. While the others clearly cared about stuff, he was still firmly stuck on the flashback he’d just been forced to relive.

“Where’s Usami? I’ve got some stimulating feedback for her latest masterpiece.”

“She never showed up,” Kaito said, holding up a post-it note that had been scrawled over with colored markers. “Look.”

Hajime read it aloud. “ _‘Dearest Students. Your squeezably soft Professor here has a_ ton _of super-important work. Please forgive me for postponing your evaluation. Let’s do this in a week from now, next Friday. I’ve still sent this flashback light. I hope it brings you shining hope and joy. Love-love, Usami.’_ ”

He cast another glance around the restaurant. Packed with the grim-set faces of people coming to grips with a terrible reality. Hajime crumpled up the note, and tossed it towards the nearest garbage can.

Where it hit the rim, before falling over onto the hardwood floor.

“We can cross Ultimate Basketball Player off the list,” Sayaka remarked with a playful giggle.

“So, it was decided that the election itself will be in a week, at Usami’s next meeting time,” Kiyo explained. “Until then, we are in the grip of a most exciting and terrifying time. Campaign season. _Kukuku_ , what will you show me, candidates?~”

Kaede and Kaito both looked uncomfortable as they thanked the long-haired creepy anthropology mummy ghoul for his help.

“That covers two of the three items,” Kaito said. “Now, to the most serious one, by far.”

Hajime nodded. “Okay. What did everyone see this time?”

“The Ultimate Hunt,” Makoto replied gravely. “Just like you said.”

Sayaka nodded. “We all saw it.” Her eyes were hollow as she stared at the floor. “It was horrible.”

Everyone was looking the worse for wear. Even Chiaki herself, normally more likely to fall asleep than emote, was looking downcast. Now that Hajme had spent some time around her, watching her play video games in the hotel lobby as well as exploring Third Island together, he could actually pick up on those kinds of mood shifts.

“It’s nothing we didn’t already know.” Makoto said. “But getting to experience it? Feeling like a fugitive on the run? That’s new.”

“There’s no longer any room for doubt. The Hunt is real, and we’re all targets,” Kaede said.

Before, while the Ultimates might have known the terrifying truth, they could distract themselves. Having it brought to the forefront of their own minds meant there was no place to run and hide. Just like they’d been unable to escape the Ultimate Hunt, before they came here.

That wasn’t what was on Hajime’s mind, though. It was just like he suspected. He was essentially one ‘step’ ahead of the others, when it came to recovering the lost memories. Everyone else had caught up to where he was.

“Hajime, what did you see?” Kyouko asked, startling him by appearing silently. “Anything about the meteors?”

“Meteors?” Makoto echoed in confusion.

Hajime nodded. “Yeah. Meteors. I guess Kyouko and I had the same vision, so that can probably apply to Rantaro, too. I don’t know about Maki.” Both of Class 53’s amnesiacs had already left. At least Kyouko and Hajime could do their best to describe what they saw to the others. Those who were listening.

Some, like Mikan, curled up in a corner of the room to cry. The Black Hats were gathered around her, trying in vain to comfort the disconsolate nurse. That certainly explained why she wasn’t hovering over her ‘patient’.

Well, all the Black Hats except for their ‘’’’stalwart’’’’ leader, Shuichi. Who he sat at an empty table, staring down, lost in thought, barely responsive.

Miu was more stable, but also had nobody to crowd around her with offers of friendship and support. She just sat there in a cloud of her own paranoia, rocking back and forth, muttering darkly about how she wouldn’t let anybody get to her.

Teruteru reacted to these grim tidings in a different, no more rational way; he put up dishes, keeping himself busy, while muttering to himself, over and over, “it’s not real… it’s not real…”

Everyone who had it together was alarmed by this wild tale of meteors falling from the heavens. Nobody knew what to make of their story.

It was the kind of thing that sure wouldn’t escape the nightly news. After all, even if they were missing blocks of time, and they weren’t really a week from living normal lives in Japan, it was still the kind of thing that anybody would know about. If it was real.

That suggested it really was fake, like a movie or something. Why would Kyouko remember watching the same movie at the same time, though? What timing. What was the significance of any of it? How could it possibly connect to the last memory, of the Ultimate Hunt?

“The last note of particular interest,” Kyouko concluded. “Terms I’ve never heard before. The Future Foundation, and the Remnants of Despair. Their names alone are suggestive, but the problem is, this is the first I’ve ever heard of them. Anybody?”

Nobody.

“Same here, I heard those too,” Hajime confirmed. “Kyouko, in your memory, were you, like, watching a TV about the meteors too? If so, did you see yourself in the screen when it ended?”

The far more stoic purple-haired girl shook her head. “Nothing like that. It doesn’t sound important, though.”

Then, that bit at the end was unique to him. He decided to keep quiet for now, until he could figure out what was going on. Otherwise, the group might start having doubts about him of some kind. Hajime himself wasn’t even sure what to believe, or what was real anymore.

Kyouko didn't bring up the fact that this 'Director Kirigiri' from their flashback had the same last name as she did. Which presumably meant it was either another thing unique to his memory. Or something she didn't want to discuss, for some reason. Either way, he followed suit, and didn't bring it up.

“... Where’s Nagito?”

“He ran off somewhere,” Chiaki said. “Hey, hey. Hajime. We should go after him. Come on.”

How pushy, all of a sudden.

Hajime shook his head. “Are you sure that he doesn't just need some space? These memories are pretty heavy.”

“That’s why we should go talk to him.” Chiaki’s face was set with as much determination as she could muster. It still looked like a blank mask to the others, but Hajime could see her purple eyes sharpen with purpose. A bit. “Leaving a guy like him to his own devices might be bad. I think.”

Hajime wanted to deny that. Nagito was, however, atypical. Talking with the white-haired dude even casually over a number of days made it clear that he was just built differently. His perspective on the world was so different. However, he never seemed like a bad guy, or like he was liable to go crazy. Not like some of the others.

He reached into his pocket, and brushed his hand over the cross that Rantaro gave him yesterday.

“Maybe. We should at least check up on him.”

“I’ll come along too,” Sayaka volunteered cheerfully. “I like to think that we’re friends. Nagito was the first person I met here, and he helped me calm down when I was freaking out.” The Ultimate Idol nodded to Makoto, who nodded back. “I’d like to return the favor, if I can.”

Hajime nodded. “Come on, then. I think I know where he went.”

Kaito said, “We’ll check on everyone else who went off on their own, just to make sure they’re alright. Kaede! Shuichi! C’mon!”

Kaede nodded, fists up. “Let’s do something, instead of just sitting around. Right, Shuichi?”

Contrary to the mood, Shuichi was still sitting in his chair, staring at the floor. Hajime thought he looked a lot like a computer that was jammed. Like when an error box popped up and it wouldn’t load anything, or do any other tasks, until you dismissed it. Kaede poking him was equivalent to clicking the ‘OK’. She almost startled him out of his chair. “Sorry! Uh, I’m okay. What were we talking about?”

Kaede glared. “I knew it! You were thinking again.”

Hajime expected Kaito to start yelling about a man’s spirit. Or something equally helpful. Instead, he just went over to Shuichi, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Take some time if you need it, alright? And if you think of anything, just let us know later.”

Whoa, human consideration.

“Sure thing, “ Shuichi nodded, back to brooding in seconds.

“Let’s go,” Hajime said. He took off out the door, down the road, and headed right for the bridge. Sayaka could keep up with any pace he set. Chiaki was huffing and puffing in moments, though, requiring them to drop down to a walk.

“I’m gonna need to lie down when we get there…”

When they got close to the lookout point on First Island, Sayaka said, “Looks familiar. Hmm. Chiaki, maybe we should give the boys some space?~”

What was with that hopeful note in her voice there?

Chiaki shook her head. “I need that bench.”

Sayaka still stayed near the trees, rather than approach, letting the others take the lead.

Just as Hajime predicted, there was Nagito, sitting on the bench and looking out at the sea. Lost in thought.

What could he even say that would help? No words would change the facts they’d all awakened to. Their hopes for a future full of success, or just a world that wasn’t consumed in war, were up in flames. Perhaps literally.

Whatever was the truth of the meteors, the Ultimate Hunt alone meant they couldn't go home again.

No.

That was the wrong approach.

Hajime _had_ to believe the reason Nagito went there, rather than just heading back to his cabin, was because he still wanted to be around people at some level. Maybe some people in particular. Somebody who would also remember this spot, and consider it ‘theirs’. It could have even been Nagito’s own way of calling for help.

He was not forthright about his own needs and desires, always downplaying them as part of his low self esteem.

Chiaki gave the game away by going and sitting down. “Phew. Much better...”

She was snoozing, complete with a bubble out of her nose, in actual seconds.

“Oh, hello there.” Nagito wiped his face a few times on his green sleeve. Hajime, drawing closer, tried to see why. He couldn’t, and Nagito looked fine when he got around to the side. In fact, he was smiling as usual. Not too convincing, but he looked the part. “Glad you’re back on your feet, Hajime. I was worried.”

“I’ll live. What about you, Nagito? Are you okay?”

Nagito looked upwards, towards the beautiful, clear blue morning sky. Not a cloud in sight.

“Hope’s Peak Academy has been destroyed.”

“Yeah,” Chiaki agreed sleepily, sprawling out on the bench. Nagito didn’t take up much space with his skinny frame. Chiaki occupied the rest, looking up at him. Hajime walked up behind the bench, giving him a better angle, although Nagito tried to look away. “We’re all in a pinch.”

No, Chiaki. Running low on lives in Super Mario is a _‘pinch’._

“So to answer your question, Hajime. I’m not doing too great. To be honest, I’m wondering if I’ve made the right choices in life.”

Hard to blame him there. “I’ve had these memories for nearly a week. I’m still not sure how to feel. I pushed it away at first, trying not to think too much about it. Trying to distract myself, to turn away.”

“That’s not you, Hajime. You’re diesel, like I said. You want to push ahead. It’s why I know for a fact you’ve got an amazing talent.” Nagito spoke in a distant, detached manner. There was still fondness in his deep voice as he praised Hajime.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Only those with talent matter. So you’ve gotta be an Ultimate.”

This guy always found a way to say something weird. Hajime could respect that people reacted to tragedy differently, but that was too much to let pass. “I’m not sure how to feel about that, Nagito. Only talented people matter? That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

“Hahaha… Extreme? I suppose.” Nagito wasn’t really holding it together at all. He was putting on an imitation of calm. Which began to slip. His deep voice broke a little more, and he grew a little more hoarse and strained. That laughter carried no mirth. “Hey. Why is the Ultimate Hunt happening? Any ideas?”

“Nope,” Chiaki said.

“Of course not,” Hajime followed.

“It’s madness, right? Has to come from somewhere. The ordinary people of this world can’t do much. Forces above our lives run them. It’s not some evil organization like Kokichi talks about. It’s all the problems in the world that we all talk about.

The really big stuff. World hunger. Wars. Global warming, I dunno. A normal person wants to solve these problems as much as a genius. But they also know that isn’t going to get them anywhere.

They know that the deck is stacked from the moment you’re born.

Either you’ve got talent, or you don’t.

If you have potential, you can waste it. If you don’t, if you’re not born with talent, then you’ll never get it. Maybe the talentless hordes that make up most of the world decided to take out their sense of powerless frustration on the Ultimates?”

“No way,” Hajime shook his head. “Who would go so far just out of, what, jealousy? Not wanting to feel inferior, or talentless?”

Nagito shrugged. “For all we really know, the Ultimate Hunt could be just one part of a way, way bigger thing. Like, obviously, the entire world hunting for just the Ultimates is absurd. But if it was just one part of a more general uprising?”

Nagito sighed, and slumped back against the bench. Even though it was just after breakfast, he looked exhausted. The way he acted and spoke suggested great fatigue with the world. “Sorry for making you listen to my ramblings, guys. This isn’t like me, either. I don’t want to burden the true Ultimates with my stupid speculation.”

Hajime put a hand on Nagito’s shoulder. “We came here to talk to you, Nagito, so don’t feel bad about talking. I can’t agree with all of it, of course. Not just what you think about ‘normal’ people, but if you are right about the Hunt… that’s a dumb reason to go on a rampage.”

“Mega dumb,” Chiaki confirmed she was still hanging on to consciousness. “I can’t forgive killing. Just like I won’t forgive a traitor, if they’re among us.”

“People do dumb things,” Nagito replied sadly. “Like wasting their time trying to cheer up a worthless guy like me. You’re right though, Chiaki. If there do turn out to be traitors, you shouldn’t forgive them, no matter what. Agreed.”

“Hey, it’s fine to be like that for the traitors, but not yourself,” Hajime said. “You’re not worthless. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses. For instance, Chiaki? Didn’t know what Girls’ Day was until I told her.”

Nagito stared over and up at him, white eyebrow raised. “Whoa. How?”

A sleepy, fluffy pout ensued from the bench.

A small, weak smile dawned on Nagito’s face at that reaction. “Come on. No way. Didn’t you celebrate it with your family?” Then he realized what he’d just asked, and he backed off quickly. “Uh, actually, nevermind, forget I said anything. There I go again.”

“It’s okay,” Chiaki said, taking a deep breath. “I used to have a dad.”

_Used to?_

Then what about now? And what about a mother?

So much from a single sentence, said while Chiaki was close to falling asleep.

Hearing that made things way more heavy than stories of global disasters or massive international riots. Things on the personal level could hit you way closer to home. Everyone's thoughts had been on their families since the moment they heard about the Hunt days ago. This just brought that basic human concern into sharp relief, while offering no actual relief.

Nagito shook his head. “Well, now I’ll feel bad if I don’t talk about it, too. I lost my parents a long time ago, so I don’t have anything to worry about.”

What?

The two parts of that sentence didn’t go together, at all!

Was Hajime really going to follow up with ‘my parents are alive, well, and actually rich, haw haw’?

What was the alternative, just refusing to answer or making up some dumb story in such a serious moment?

Two sets of eyes were on him, though.

He was being volunteered.

“Mom and dad are back home, waiting for me,” Hajime said. “I hope they’re okay. I mean, if you’re right, Nagito, and this is some kind of uprising against ‘the elites’ in general, they could be in trouble, but I doubt it. My family’s got money, but not, like, crazy-money.”

“Life’s rough, buddy,” Nagito said ruefully.

“Shut up. I can’t be the only one who keeps this kinda thing to myself, or I’ll feel like a jackass. You two basically asked. I really don’t think they’ll be in trouble, though. I mean, they’re not the types to take some big stand or get into a fight with the Hunt. So hopefully, they just get left alone.”

Hajime leaned against the bench, looking out towards the calm, peaceful ocean waves. The weather totally didn’t match up with anyone’s feelings at the moment. “Most importantly. I just can’t believe people would go far enough to, like, attack them too. I mean, talent is important. But it’s not the be-all end-all. What about being a good person, and helping others? What about all the other things in life?” Hajime shook his head. “Why obsess over this one thing? We’re still missing something big. There has to be more to this whole thing.”

Nagito didn’t reply for quite a while to that.

Finally, he spoke up.

“Hey. Chiaki. What do you think good luck is?”

“Hm? It’s the opposite of bad luck, right?”

“That’s the kind of answer Wikipedia might give,” Nagito remarked, shaking his head. “Good and bad luck are inseparable. Bad follows good, and good follows bad. Even though we’ve just been dealt this massive blow, the Ultimates are still here. We can still move towards hope.”

Hajime nodded. “I agree with that! As long as we’re alive, the Ultimate Hunt has failed.” He clenched a fist to his chest. “As long as we keep going, and we don’t give up, we can do something. Nagito, Chiaki… I hope we can work together. As friends. To save everyone, and put a stop to this madness.”

“Friends, huh?” Nagito shook his head. “I’m lower than the lowest dirt. I’d never dare to bring you down to my level-”

“Sounds good,’ Chiaki replied, short circuiting another lecture on how much Nagito hated that Nagito guy. She promptly fell back to sleep before he could object. Complete with nose-bubbles.

A move Nagito had no defense against. “Sheesh.”

Hajime grinned. “No getting out of this one, Nagito. She said yes. That means you’re her friend, unless you want to wake her up and tell her to fuck off.”

“Tch. She got me. And of course, if I’m so presumptuous as to be friends with one Ultimate, why not another? Fine. Besties for life. Just remember, nothing good can come of being around me. It’s the nature of my life… no, of luck itself. Bad follows good. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Oh yeah?” Hajime picked up a pebble, and tossed it off the cliff, into the ocean, hollering after it. “Bring it on, luck! Or fate. Or God, or whatever! I’m not scared of you!”

Nagito shook his head, reaching over and pulling Hajime backwards, onto his own lap and hugging him tight, back to Nagito’s front.

‘Whoa! N-Nagito! What gives?!”

A moment later, the rock came flying back up. It passed through the same bit of air Hajime’s had just been occupying.

Was that… the same rock?!

“Fucking _what_?! That thing bounced off the cliffs and came back up at me for payback?!”

Nagito sighed, resting his head on Hajime’s shoulder. Nagito’s arms were already around his slender waist. His low, deep voice was right in Hajime’s ear now, which sent a spark right down Hajime’s spine and made him shiver.

“You’ve still got so much to learn about my powerful, dangerous talent. So for now, take that as your first lesson. Don’t mess with Lady Luck. She has a nasty sense of humor.”

It wasn’t until later, when Nagito opened up about the circumstances in which he lost his parents, that Hajime fully understood his outlook on life and luck. And the reason he’d predicted that near-miss so well. In that moment, it just felt like Nagito could read fate itself.

Really, it was more like he’d come to accept that he had no control over his own life.

To some people, that was a far greater hell then prison or even death.

Hajime wasn’t going to back down, though. He meant what he said. Come what may, he would stand by his friends. Nagito, Chiaki, Sayaka snooping on them from the forest, and all the guys back at the restaurant or their cottages.

They were getting closer to the truth.

All the Ultimates had to do was press forward, and never give up on their dented, damaged, but not completely destroyed, hopes for the future.


	18. 1-8. Free Time Events II (Multiple)

The fantastic and weird could become routine.

If you were exposed to it long enough.

The forty-eight Ultimates were coming up on two weeks together on Gopher Island.

They had the truth they sought. Hope’s Peak Academy was gone.

There was no reason to escape the island. In fact, it was their only refuge from the Ultimate Hunt. There was nothing to do try to lay low and try to avoid worrying over their friends and family. Usami herself, and her resources and power, was proof that the entire world wasn’t against the Ultimates. They just had to wait until an opportunity presented itself.

Some people accepted the truth quickly, and adapted to island life. Others resisted, but it was pointless. No amount of thinking, or discussion, would change their shared past. All they could look to was their future, together. In the midst of despair, came a sense of peace. Of finally knowing the reason for their tropical exile, for sure.

Everything had a silver lining. That was Makoto’s philosophy.

For instance, he now woke up in the bed of a world-famous idol on the regular. It felt unbearably weird at first. Like Makoto was violating the trust of her hundred million fans. Oh well.

Common people like him were good at realizing when something couldn’t be helped, and refusing to let that daunt them or drive them mad with worry. The 99 percent just carried on, as a certain rich jerk had observed to him in the past. Even if the Sayakers found out about their living situation, half the world already wanted him dead. A hundred million was a drop in the bucket.

He still couldn’t help a lonely sense as he woke up, some days.

No freaking Komaru to bust into his room to tell him about Sayaka again. He was sleeping in her cabin instead.

No mom and dad to cook breakfast or admonish him to get a job and cut his ahoge. A magical stuffed rabbit was instead trying to get everybody to get along. And remember horrible catastrophes together.

Weird therapy there. Considering he’d rather forget the feeling of being hunted. Nearly getting killed by angry mobs. He suspected he never would. He’d never be able to put that out of his mind a hundred percent. That primal fear told him it was all real. Not some elaborate prank, or TV show, or hallucination.

Reality was more insane than any fantasy he could come up with. What was normal? What was ‘expected’ in such a world? Well, aside from Kyouko Kirigiri being able to track the room switches. Regardless of Makoto and Sayaka’s efforts to act randomly.

He had to wonder _how_ she did it.

"No human action is ever truly random," She explained, cryptic as ever.

Makoto grinned. "Oh yeah? How about the way Junko acts?"

Kyouko was unfazed. "Junko Enoshima, in particular, never does anything without reason. It would be wise to keep an eye on her."

Oh, that certainly wouldn't be a problem for any healthy, pink-blooded Japanese guy. Especially with her special 'campaign tactics' she was promising to unveil as the week went on. Maybe Taka had a tougher challenge than Makoto expected.

Makoto stroked his chin. "Is there anyone you're not suspicious of?"

"No."

"Oh yeah? Even me?"

"Even you," Kyouko said, bluntly. "Please understand. My suspicion does not equal distrust. I neither trust, nor distrust. Until the evidence comes down. So if you’re not one of the traitors, you have nothing to worry about. Because that will come out in time. The truth always wins, Makoto."

There had to be limits to anything. Even a person’s skepticism. "Do you even suspect yourself, then? C'mon."

"Especially myself. With my memories gone, I have no way of knowing who I really am. That's why getting up so early just to try and chat me up is a poor idea.”

“Because you’re such a people person?”

“Exactly. More than that, I could be a traitor. Or worse."

"Yeah, right. Somebody who’s really a traitor would try to blend in. Smile at you like a friend, like they have feelings and dreams just like anyone else.”

Komaeda’s laugh came to him. Even then, even days later. Crystal clear.

“Even if they’re really a monster. Not act as suspicious and mysterious as humanly possible. Wait, worse? What could be worse than a traitor working for the Ultimate Hunt?"

"Pray we never find out," Kyouko replied gravely, looking aside. "For once, I hope I'm wrong about something. So, try not to worry about it."

Talk about a guaranteed formula to make him worry as much as possible! Like he needed that. He was already nervous about whether the Plan was going to be a success. Would Makoto and Sayaka really be able to sway Kyouko at all? She was unflappable.

The living enigma revealed nothing about herself. The only thing she said was, while most people were afraid of ‘losing something’, she was afraid of ‘what she’d already lost’. Clearly, a reference to the advanced memory loss she had to bear.

The amnesiacs weren’t going to accept life on this island. Not fully. Not until Usami came through with the rest of the memories. Hajime was the same way. Makoto couldn’t blame any of them. Kyouko may really not have known almost anything about herself. What a terrible situation for anyone to be in. To have lost so much.

He had the opposite problem; he knew something he shouldn’t, something nobody else did. It felt like he was being eaten up inside sometimes. That was why he wouldn’t sit still. Why he would do anything he needed to do to bring the traitors to justice, and protect everyone!

Even trying to get a girl to come to his room.

What a hero he was.

"So, you're still on the fence about everyone here. That means you'd be willing to give anybody a chance, right?"

"Yes."

"Awesome. Hold on a sec, please. I’d like you to consider what somebody has to say."

Kyouko didn’t leave when he knocked on the door to his own cabin. Good sign.

Sayaka Maizono emerged within a minute, flawless. There wasn’t any better word for her outward persona. She was free of human failings, like bad skin, or even bedhead. Or even just a bad attitude from being woken up. She looked like those airbrushed fashion magazine covers Junko went on about. Makeup, clothing, hair, smile. Not one detail out of place. She was already the Ultimate Idol.

“Good morning, Makoto. What’s up?~” She held her hands behind her back.

Makoto knew why. If she was answering the door for anyone, especially so early, she was doubtless prepared.

These two ladies had more in common than they might realize. If only he could get them to talk. Was that really likely to happen, though? Kyouko had already made her feelings on Sayaka abundantly clear. Abnormally so, for such a withdrawn person.

“Uh.” Makoto nodded unsubtly over at Kyouko. “Sorry for coming around so early. Is now a bad time?”

“It’s no problem.” Sayaka assured him. She took something from the waistband of her skirt, setting it somewhere around the nightstand. Thankfully. Then, she caught sight of Kyouko. “Oh, I get it. Now’s the time?”

“Yeah. But I just realized, it’s really early. Sorry.”

“I understand. It can be tough to catch Kyouko, so you figured you’d strike while the iron was hot!” Makoto nodded. “Makes sense. I am in fact very curious about you too, Kyouko. If you want to hang out, I think we have something really important for you to hear. If it’s not a bother.”

Everything Sayaka said was carefully crafted. She was even friendly and warm towards a person who didn’t return it. Like Makoto, Kyouko was able to see Sayaka’s mask, and that it concealed a much deeper personality beneath. Unlike him, though, she had yet to see the real person in there. Hopefully, this morning, they could fix that.

“It’s no bother.” Kyouko played her cards close to her chest. The mysterious girl was tight-lipped, observant, and borderline paranoid. “I can at least hear you both out.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Makoto could hear the crash of gentle waves all the way from the beach, and footfalls on the stone paths sounded like gunshots.

Some conversation.

“But first, I have just one question of my own.” Kyouko fixed Makoto with an intent stare. “Do you remember what I said last week?”

Makoto nodded. “Sure, I remember. But it’s not like that. Not anymore.”

“What could possibly have changed?”

Makoto realized he hadn’t gone over the Plan with Sayaka in detail. In the movies, not talking about a plan was like a guarantee that it would succeed. He sort of operated on similar logic. Maybe Sayaka wouldn’t enjoy talking about personal things like their confrontation in her Ultimate Lab. To a strange, mysterious lady they barely knew. She was an intensely private woman, with good reason. He looked in her direction.

Sayaka sighed. “Let’s go inside for this. Shall we?”

Kyouko shook her head. “I’m not sure about going somewhere you two can lock behind me.”

“What?” Makoto shook his head. “Kyouko, you can’t be serious.”

“You’d be amazed. I’m a very serious person.”

Okay, that was true. “We just want to talk! What’s the big deal?”

“You have come to a deeper level of understanding with Sayaka Maizono. You two are truly working together now. If I suspect Sayaka, then I could either think you’re the second traitor, or an unwitting dupe. Or she could be threatening you into helping her. Just for instance.”

Makoto couldn’t suppress his outrage at being treated like a suspect in a murder investigation. Like most normal people, when he was accused, regardless of circumstances, he got defensive. “There’s also the chance that we’re, you know, not evil.”

“That’s also one of the possibilities, yes.”

Sayaka giggled instead at this blunt, insulting behavior. “Well, you can stay out there where it’s safe. Or you could learn who one of the traitors are.” Then, she went inside, and beckoned Makoto to follow. They left the door ajar.

Kyouko followed.

She leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed.

Sayaka took a seat on Makoto’s bed, near the nightstand.

Both ladies were prepared for trouble, and could make it double. At any moment. They’d be able to react before he even knew what was going on.

What a tense atmosphere for a ‘friendly chat’.

“Okay, so.” He remarked, taking a seat at the chair at his wooden desk near the window, and turning it around to face them. “Thanks for hearing us out. Really. A while back, you asked me if I had any suspects. I didn’t say anything at the time, but uh, I did.”

Kyouko asked, “Why did you decide to tell me now?”

“Makoto thinks we should get along,” Sayaka replied. “Or at least, that doubting each other so much isn’t great. In fact, we should work together. I’m inclined to agree.”

“Work together? Are you serious?”

Sayaka looked her dead in the eye. “Nagito Komaeda is a traitor. We need your help to take him down.”

Welp.

Makoto couldn’t help but tense up. He watched Kyouko for signs of her reaction. Nothing. She just stood there for a moment, arms crossed, looking down at the floor in thought. “The mild-mannered Nagito? Why do you think that? Why haven’t you mentioned this to anyone else?”

Makoto leaned back. “On the first day, when Monokuma attacked-”

Sayaka put up a hand. “Hang on, please. Let’s keep things general right now. It doesn’t matter what we tell you, anyway. Since you’re not likely to believe it. Am I right?” Yeah, this was definitely Sayaka, not Sayaka Maizono. The way she was acting wasn’t any less sharp or cutthroat than Kyouko. “However, you’ve never seriously suspected Nagito before this moment. So now you’re wondering. Did you miss something? What could you have missed, that we picked up on?~ Could it even possibly be true? If there’s even one percent of doubt in your mind, you’ll need to investigate.”

“Ah, so you can’t prove it yet. If you came forward, he could just accuse you. Nobody would know what to think.”

“If the group goes all Lord of the Flies, things’ll get a lot worse for everyone,” Makoto nodded. “We gotta avoid people turning on each other or just, like, starting a witch hunt.”

“Hm.” Kyouko stared at him. “I didn’t know you read, Makoto.”

“I mean, it was just for some assignment in high school...”

‘Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut,” Sayaka advised, with a sly grin. “Just let a girl be impressed with you next time.”

Because it happened so rarely he should treasure that feeling, right? Sheesh.

Kyouko flipped right back to the topic, undaunted. “You need evidence. If there’s an investigation to do, why couldn’t you ask Shuichi?”

“The Ultimate Detective would certainly be our first choice. However, Nagito doesn’t think that Makoto and I can accuse him. That’s also why he hasn’t done anything to us. It would only give him away. If anything happens to us, you’d know for sure, right?”

“Not for sure. But this isn’t a bad insurance policy. Assuming I’m not the second traitor. In which case, you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your lives.” The thin line of Kyouko’s mouth curved upwards into a smirk.

Makoto’s eyes widened. “Kyouko, no way-”

Sayaka rolled right over his sadly normal reactions, cool as ice herself. “It’s possible, but anybody could be. Like I said, Nagito is confident. Even if you report that we’ve made him, he’ll just laugh it off.”

“That guy…” Makoto shook his head. “Kyouko, we’re not messing around. It’s the truth.”

“You’re friends with Shuichi. Whereas we have nothing between us,” Kyouko said.

Sayaka nodded. “That’s exactly it, though, do you see?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

Makoto worried about keeping up with these two. At least he got this one, after a few rounds of mental word-search. If they asked Shuichi to check it out, he would. Even on just Makoto’s word, he’d probably believe it enough to take it serious. If Komaeda found out, then he’d know Makoto talked. That led to a bunch of unpleasant possible futures. On the other hand, Kyouko didn’t trust anybody. It would just look like more of her omnidirectional paranoia.

Was it paranoia if there really were people out to get them?

“Of course, I want to catch the traitors,” Sayaka said. “More than that, though, I have a personal stake. I want to make it up to Makoto for trying to use him like a pawn.”

“You admit it? Just like that, to his face? That means he figured it out. Or you told him. Yet you two are still close. Things have changed. I’m going to have to update a lot of my notes.” Kyouko tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“See?” Makoto smiled. “We’re all in this together. We should be friends, Kyouko.”

Yeah, probably not realistic-

“Sure. Friends to the end,” Kyouko agreed.

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. Super besties.”

Sayaka giggled. “She’s not kidding, Makoto.”

“I’m not,” Kyouko agreed. “You’ve both accused somebody. This is not a hunch, you think you’re onto him. On the basis of something. I need to know what that is, and I’m willing to trade you for my findings about the Rocketpunch Supermarket investigation. More than that, though. I don’t think Makoto is dumb enough to be helping an actual traitor.”

Thanks, love you too.

“Which means either you’re both traitors, or neither of you are. That means there’s a high chance that Nagito Komaeda is our enemy. Certainly more than one percent.”

Sayaka nodded. “In either scenario, you’d want to keep us close.”

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, huh? This wasn’t exactly what Makoto had in mind.

Sayaka giggled. “There’s another benefit from your side. I don’t need my mental powers to tell that you _miiiight_ not have formed enough friendships for Usami’s tastes. If we become BFFs, then the rest of the group won’t have to nag you about the progress gate.”

“You make me sound like I’m a paranoid hermit or something.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Kyouko!” Sayaka assured her, grinning. “I was just complimenting you on your ability to stay objective. Or how cool you’re being about this, even though you still think I might be about to stab you.”

“By now, it’s a low chance. You wouldn’t feed me this whole story just for an opening.” Kyouko shook her head. “I am human, at the end of the day. Just like you two. I experience the full range of emotions you might. I just don’t have to let it show.”

“Easier said than done,” Makoto remarked.

“You would do well to try.” Kyouko’s purple eyes flickered to Sayaka. “Your honest heart makes you an easy target.”

“She’s right, Makoto.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I do feel bad about it, but like. She’s not wrong? I did pick you out of like, everyone on the island, even people like Chihiro. Now, I was wrong to think like that. I was weak, and afraid, and arrogant. I thought you were just a ‘little person’ I could use as a stepping stone, or a decoy, or a patsy. For that, I’m going to make it up to you. And I really do think being an honest guy is admirable. Normally. In a normal world. But you don’t have to be so, like…”

“Foolishly open,” Kyouko finished for her.

“I came out here to have a good time, okay. Now I’m feeling personally attacked.”

Memes weren’t the only way to make a point, even for the common man. Makoto was going to take what he had already learned from Sayaka… and strike back!

“Anticipate deception,” Kyouko continued her own lesson, not knowing the perils waiting for her when she messed with Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student. “Never allow others to read your emotions. And whoever stands before you, never let them push you around. Remember that.”

“Wise words,” Sayaka agreed, clapping her hands together. “I live by similar ideals, Kyouko. Maybe we’re more alike than you realize.”

“If that’s true, and you’re like me. It’s all the more reason for Makoto to be very careful.”

Makoto rubbed his chin. “That’s such a shame, though.”

“Hm?”

“I was thinking. Your smile is just so cute,” Makoto blurted out. “I-It’s a shame to keep it hidden! A bright smile is way better. Uh, in my opinion…”

Kyouko blushed and averted her gaze. “That’s an unfair thing to say to a girl.”

Makoto’s resolve to strike back lasted about eleven seconds.

“Ah! Um, I’m sorry. I was just messing around.”

“Calling a girl ‘cute’ just to deceive her? An underhanded tactic.” Kyouko fixed him with a withering glare, and Makoto felt the pressure of her forceful personality, fixated on him like a laser beam. “I was wrong about you both.”

That got Makoto back on the defensive. Not even for himself; for Sayaka. “Hey, I don’t care what you think of me, but Sayaka really isn’t like...that?” He trailed off in confusion.

Kyouko stopped being angry, in the blink of an eye.

It was exactly like that sunset at lookout point, where the weather shifted in the space between heartbeats.

“Too easy.” Kyouko shook her head. “You would never just come out and call somebody ‘cute’. Especially a girl. Especially not in such a tense moment. That was a completely out-of-character move.”

Sayaka agreed, smiling. “This round was your loss, Makoto.”

That was the truth of his situation. Flanked by sharks on either side. One was on his side, and the other would at least associate with him. Hopefully, those sharp teeth could be put to use on something that wasn’t him.

“Just think about what I’ve said,” Kyouko said. “Now, since we’re working together, let’s trade information. You first. How do you actually know Nagito is a traitor?”

Makoto recounted the events of that first rain-soaked stormy night, to the best of his meager ability. Kyouko asked him some questions, but mostly just led him speak, nodding along. She listened to his absurd tale. Kyouko didn’t once tell him he was making it up, or there was no way it could be real. She just listened. At the end, she said, “If this is true, it really does change everything. In which case, you two may have brought me closer to the truths of this world.”

“The truth always wins, right?” Makoto said, with a smile.

“Right. In exchange, I’ll do the same for you. Our investigation of the Rocketpunch Supermarket revealed absolutely nothing. Just as expected, a critical piece of evidence.”

Oh, that cleared it up. Nothing was everything.

“What do you mean, Kyouko? Please, we’re clearly not as used to this world of intrigue as you are,” Sayaka asked. “Ooh. What if you’re the Ultimate Spy?~”

“Very plausible. Anyway, that data point is the latest piece of evidence in a mounting suspicion that the world around us is wrong. I can’t explain it any better than that for now, but remember. My cameras take photos automatically, even without motion sensor contacts, every half-hour. Yesterday morning, by four AM, Rocketpunch Supermarket was completely restocked.”

“Meaning they replaced everything within half an hour, in the dead of night,” Sayaka said.

“Meaning they did the impossible. That much work would require many people, heavy machinery, or a lot of time. They couldn’t have used any of those resources without Shuichi and I discovering it.”

“Why not?” Makoto asked.

“Shuichi placed sand and dirt in the doors nightly. All of which was still undisturbed two hours after the incident, when I woke up and checked. It could be a few things. A secret tunnel? An airdrop? Usami’s magic spells affecting reality again? It sounds stupid, but we’ve seen it happen with our own two eyes. In short, no amount of camera surveillance or spying will ever be able to reveal Usami’s trickery. Make of that what you will.”

Without as much as a ‘see you later’, Kyouko took her leave, walking back out of the cabin and down the walkway out of the hotel. Makoto watched her go, and then turned to look at Sayaka, who had leaned back and sprawled out on his bed, framed by her deep blue hair like a snow angel.

“Whew!”

“I can’t believe it, she’s in,” Makoto said, pumping his fist. “Sayaka, you were awesome!”

“I’m very flattered to hear that,” She said, reaching down to ensure that, even at that angle, her miniskirt wouldn’t get too mini for decency. “Honestly? My heart was racing from the second she came in. I mean, forget the chance that she really was the second traitor, and about to like, put us on ice, or make us sleep with the fishes or something.”

Makoto grinned. “Sleep with the fishes, huh?”

“You know what I mean! Given how she always acts, she could have pulled a gun on us right then. Can you really say you’d be, like, shocked?” No. “Her presence, just having a conversation with the lady, is intimidating. All I could do was act like I knew what the fuck she was doing, and play amateur psychologist and detective.”

Makoto felt the same way about Sayaka, so what did that say about his ability to match wits with Kyouko herself? Regardless, they made it through, and recruited a new ally. The fact that both girls suspected each other was natural, given their circumstances. Really, Kyouko’s stance was a logical one. But in time, as long as they worked together towards a shared goal, suspicions would hopefully fade, and they’d really be friends. For real.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing you cuss,” Makoto admitted. “It’s like if Doraemon came out of the TV screen and told me to kill my friends.”

“That’s basically what Monokuma himself was, I don’t know how to feel about that~ It’s only when I get really stressed out, don’t worry.” Sayaka assured him. “Of course, only when I’m in the company of people I can trust absolutely. Like my manager. Or you.”

It was Makoto’s turn to have his heart race, hearing that from her. “Nice line,” He managed, through his blushing.

“Thanks! I’ve got others. For instance…” She sprawled out on his bed, curves tilted at the right angles to emphasize them all through her school uniform-type outfit. “I-If you want to close that door behind you. W-We could totally hang out in your room for a while more~”

Of course he wanted that! It was the most obvious trap on this island, though. Especially in light of the lessons he was now getting from two dangerous ladies about guarding his heart. “C-Come on, let’s go see if there’s any breakfast yet.”

“Awww, alrighty. Maybe another time?~”

The way she kicked those long legs, shifted on the bed, and stuck out her tongue at him reminded Makoto that, even if she felt Kyouko was more intimidating, Sayaka herself was dangerous.

They set out along the cobblestone walkway, just in time to catch the first rays of dawn breaking across the hedge walls of the hotel complex. The world came alive, warmed by the light.

Makoto couldn’t help feeling that the new partnership they’d forged would bring the truth to light, too. Komaeda didn’t have a chance if all the Ultimates he pretended to idolize really stood together!

“We’re getting upstaged by Kyouko’s efforts, Makoto. We’ve got to start solving some mysteries too,” Sayaka said, “Or we’ll get left behind.”

It wasn’t much of a surprise to see another habitual early riser in the hotel lobby on their way to the restaurant. Chihiro was always cute, but in the morning she seemed unsettled. Now, though, she was all smiles as she looked up from her NES console and waved to them.

“Good morning, Makoto! Sayaka!” Wow, maybe hanging out with Mondo and Ishimaru was really doing the shy girl some good, as odd a threesome as they made-

“May Atua’s blessings be upon you!”

Sayaka and Makoto stopped in their tracks.

They stared at each other.

Then at Chihiro.

Then back to each other.

Makoto sweatdropped. “Shuichi’s going to _love_ this.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Makoto! You brought it! Thank you so much. I am now in your debt.”

With a reaction like that from Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess, Makoto had to be feeling some of the joy! Even if all he’d really done was give her a bag of instant coffee.

“I’m glad you like it, Sonia.”

“This will bring me closer to understanding Japanese commoners. Which is also why I am so very delighted that you have agreed to join me today.”

“I mean, it’s no problem,” Makoto said, having to look up to meet Sonia’s wide grey eyes. The blonde princess was imposing, and not just from her personality. She must have had at least ten centimeters on Makoto, probably more. Even Sayaka was only a little bit taller than him, already a problem for a guy. It was really noticeable here, though. As if he didn’t already feel like an ant next to real royalty. “Not like my schedule’s busy.”

“Then, if you are prepared. Let us begin the operation!”

Aka, time to go to the library together and look for clues, Scoob.

Which everyone and their grandmother, Makoto included, had already done. That message referencing “the new world” was a dead giveaway, but nobody had yet to come up with a single lead. Really, it was just an excuse to hang out. After so many days on the island, doing anything was just an excuse to spend time with someone. It beat sitting around alone. For most people.

An invitation from Sonia Nevermind was one that Makoto sure couldn’t refuse. If nothing else, when Kazuichi learned about this plan, he’d stormed over and demanded Makoto go for it. Through gritted sharp shark teeth and streaming tears. Something about how the survivors had to carry on for the sake of all they left behind. Or something.

Not that ‘hang out with a princess’ was a sacrifice worthy of legend and song. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. Makoto was given to understand she was lonely. Maybe everyone was too intimidated to go up and talk to Sonia.

Much of the overgrown jungle and forestry on Second Island had been trimmed back, thanks to the tireless work of the Exisals. They could be found stomping around at any hour. They limited themselves to daylight operations around the hotel areas, mercifully. Out here, the machines had been seen throughout the night. Their robotic efforts paid off. It was now more than possible to see buildings coming up, rather than stumbling around on the path.

“How have you been, Makoto? It feels like we do not talk very often.”

“Ah, I’m not trying to avoid you or anything. We’re just in different classes, and, uh. I don’t want to bother you or anything. I mean, you’re right, I am just a ‘commoner’ like Byakuya always says. Not worth worrying over.”

Sonia shook her head, whipping golden hair around. It shimmered like wheat in the sunlight. “We might have been born into different social classes, but so what? Please, do not let anything that… Affluent Progeny says get to you! I assure you, I do not share his outdated views about you cute, quaint little normal people.”

“I meant… nevermind.”

“Hm? Yes?”

“No, I mean, uh.”

You wouldn’t be the slickest guy in the world around a gorgeous princess, either.

Makoto forced himself to take a deep breath.

“If you are troubled, Makoto, please let me know. While you are not one of my subjects, I still wish to look after you. As a fellow Ultimate. I do not consider you ‘beneath’ me at all.”

She said it so often, like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

Makoto himself didn’t feel worthy. “I appreciate that, Sonia. All of it. Thank you. I have to admit, it’s nice to talk to somebody who’s not going to rip my face off if I say the wrong thing.”

“Oh, good heavens no. Although I should warn you that saying certain impolite things towards me may get you hanged. If you ever come to my country. Although of course, for a fellow Ultimate, I can issue the appropriate pardons. So by all means, speak freely.” She giggled at the reaction written across his face. “Tee hee. I kid. This is not the eighteenth century, Makoto. Even one such as I knows that much. Don’t underestimate European royalty!”

History wasn’t his strong suit. Well, nothing was really Makoto’s strong suit, except apparently talking to sharp women. However, even he knew that people who underestimated Europeans tended to meet with terrible fates. “That reminds me. Your country was called… hmm.” It took him a few moments to spell out the word in his head, so he could advance. “I got it! It’s the Novoselic Kingdom, right?”

“Correct! Wonderful, you did remember. Considering how small we are, I am glad whenever my homeland’s name comes up.” Sonia checked her Hope Pad. “Ah, the New World Library is just up ahead.”

The great arched ceiling and imposing amber-hewed architecture was all too familiar. On day one, when the crew was exploring Second Island, the place looked ruined. Many of the books were damaged by fallen bookcases and dirt. Now, everything was cleaned up, and it was just a normal public library like ones all across Japan.

Makoto had already been there, of course. Checking it for clues with the others. Their investigations had come up with nothing, even though the message they discovered seemed to obviously be pointing there. It really did just appear to be a library. The only thing about the structure that was out of place was the gaudy Usami statues within.

Hearing about ‘commoners’ just brought back memories of the good-hearted Makoto’s efforts to befriend Byakuya, and how well that had gone. Not to mention, when Sonia offered to make him a ‘knight of her realm’, that brought up memories of another classmate, Celeste.

Yet, this girl, despite showing worrying traits of both of those individuals, lacked all the malice and scheming behind those words. The blonde princess had that same doll-like beauty as Sayaka, but didn’t have that extra layer underneath. It was, admittedly, a nice change of pace to be around somebody without some hidden dark side.

“Oh my gosh! I knew it! Makoto! Some of the books in this library are just what I’ve been looking for. More importantly, though, it also has a section for video rentals! At last, more of your charming Japanese animes!”

“You’re really into that, huh?”

“But of course! You know, viewership of certain anime series, such as Pretty Soldier Cure, and Boku My Hero Academia, extends to over ninety percent of my country’s subjects.”

“Ninety percent?!”

Was Sonia’s country really okay?

At least they had decent taste-

“Tsumugi and Hifumi have both provided invaluable guidance to me in my personal exploration of The Animes.”

Nevermind Novoselic, was Sonia okay?! With guidance like that, who could say what was going to happen to Sonia’s presumably-virgin eyes.

New World Library wasn’t a big enough place to get lost in. Even if they were searching separate sections, Makoto could easily keep talking with Sonia during his journey through the shelves of books.

“What inspired you to make the festival on Friday, Sonia? Is there some kind of national holiday in your country?”

The princess shook her head with a merry chuckle. “No. I merely thought... Everybody needed it. It will be a chance for us to ‘launch’ our new lives together formally, if you will. To help people accept a life on this island until it is safe to return. In other words, it is to improve the quality of life on Gopher Island, and start our new society on the right foot.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Wow. You’re always thinking about that kinda stuff, aren’t you?”

It was odd to compare the two women, but Sonia reminded him of Kirumi’s focus on Everyone. How she thought about the group, and ‘society’. For lack of a better word for this collection of wacky uni students on an island. It was a different perspective from what a normal person was expected to have.

“Well, Friday will already be significant. Because of Usami’s progress gate evaluation. It may be even be when the next part of the island opens up! Not to mention the elections, which I am of course humbly entered in for class representative.”

Sonia had to get elected, even though she was the Ultimate Princess. How did she feel about that? “Good luck with that stuff, by the way. I can’t vote for you, but I can say ‘good luck’! Ah, no talent pun intended.”

Sonia giggled. “I’ll still rely on your talent regardless, Makoto, to carry me to a glorious victory! I am still proud to consider Byakuya a friend, however, he will not withstand the might of the Tanaka Empire! So to speak.”

Gundham Tanaka as her campaign manager could be good. Like, maybe. At the very least, everyone involved would be entertained. “It might be kinda unfair of me to say, because the big guy’s not so bad when you get to know him. But the fact that Twogami is a Byakuya, like you said. Just like our own skinny one. It makes me want to see you beat him like a rented mule.”

Sonia stared at him for a moment. “Oh, you are using metaphorical language! I thought so, but it was still odd to see such a nice person advocating that kind of thing. Thank you for your heartfelt support, Makoto. If I continue to enjoy the affection of commoners such as you, I am a foot-in!”

Hmm. Makoto could fixate on how she got a saying wrong, or he could notice instead that Sonia didn’t seem thrilled with the situation, in spite of her words. Her expression told a different tale, before she quickly turned back towards the books so he couldn’t see. Something was bothering her.

Trouble in paradise? Something about the election? Did she think Twogami was going to give her trouble, or was it something deeper than that?

“Is everything okay, Sonia-”

“Aha! Bingo! I’ve found it!”

That prospect, being the first to do something helpful, made Makoto excited enough to totally side-track him. “Is it what we’ve been looking for?!” He rushed to her side.

“No, even better!”

“Better?”

“Oho. You dare doubt my word? On your knees!” Makoto did, in fact, kneel at her command. His face heated up and he stood back up after a moment of realizing what he was doing. He was a free man, Sonia even said he wasn’t one of her subjects, dangit! “Ahem. Apologies for my outburst. I can get downright _intense_ when discussing my… special hobby. Makoto, this hefty tome is a lovely archive of world-infamous serial killers.”

Oh, that’s what she was getting in a literal huff over. Which was casing her pale white skin to be flush with excited red hues. Of course. It was just a... ‘lovely’ record of... “Serial killers?!”

“Yes! So you see why I was delighted to finally locate it! I will not pretend that today's expedition was not partially motivated by my strong desire to find this. It was listed in the library’s computer catalogue, but I was worried somebody else had ‘checked it out’ already. Fortunately, no. It is all mine! Although if you wish it, Makoto, I will lend you the tome. From time to time.”

That didn’t sound too appealing. Makoto also couldn’t rule out the information he might get there. Something told him to accept, just to check it over once or twice. Just in case.

The logical part of his brain was asking him how likely it really, honestly was that somebody on this island would just happen to be a freaking serial killer. However, the growing part of him that was getting used to dealing with new and exotic bullshit knew that he couldn’t be too careful. “Uh, sure. I’d like to have a look at some point. Wow, Sonia, I’d have never guessed you were so… into that kind of thing.”

“Indeed! Quite!” She struck a Rosie the Riveter pose with a bare bicep, grinning widely down at him. “I do not mind mentioning that my own personal, absolute favorite serial killer is featured prominently at the front of this work. Without a doubt, it is the masked vigilante known as Sparkling Justice!”

“You have a _favorite_?!”

Sonia was rolling, and no force on the Earth could stop her now. “Sparkling Justice is a serial killer who exclusively targets fellow criminals. Only one journalist has ever been able to interview them. They claim to be doing it all from their extremely strong sense of personal justice! ‘Evil cannot be allowed anywhere’, and so on.”

“That sounds like a TV show I watched once.” Makoto shook his head. “Doing that in reality is a whole different thing, right? I mean, they’re still a killer, you know.”

“Most certainly. What amazing conviction, to carry your beliefs to such extremity. To ramp things up to the highest stakes imaginable! Life and death. Even if the world considers you an infamous criminal for it.” Sonia had stars in her eyes as she flipped through the book, and placed it on a nearby table so she could show Makoto parts of the files.

Even the glimpses Makoto got were horrifying.

Sort of how like how he was feeling about this conversation, and the way it was headed.

Not only was he seeing a new side to the perfect princess Sonia, but also, this was all sounding a little too familiar again. This time, though, he wasn’t thinking of Byakuya, or Celes. No, the person who came to mind was somebody who, like Sonia said, carried their beliefs to an extreme level. He tried to raise the stakes to life and death, all for the sake of some fucked-up ideology thing.

Makoto tensed up, he couldn’t help it. He had to say something. After what he’d been through, he couldn’t meekly let this kind of thing pass anymore. “Should we really admire Sparkling Justice that much?!”

“Hm? What do you mean, Makoto?”

“They’re still a murderer, right?” Part of the information in Sonia’s book was crime scene photos by the dozens. No, the hundreds. Real, authentic-seeming photos and crime reports, pieces of declassified studies, all driving home the reality of the situation.

The book was nowhere near an actual police file of the case, but Makoto had never had access to one of those in his life before now, so he didn’t know the difference. It looked official and authentic to him.

“Deciding who lives and who dies, judging people’s lives like that… I can’t forgive somebody like that! No way!”

“Makoto.” Sonia shook her head gently. “I cannot fault your own strong ethics. Naturally, I do agree. Part of my role as the Ultimate Princess is to stop people who take the law into their own hands. However. Please do not close your mind. Sparkling Justice is a product of strong, deeply-felt ethics, that simply diverge from your own, and from society’s as a whole. Do not be so quick to dismiss serial killers out of hand.”

“Why not?! Even if they feel strongly, that doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want because of it.” Makoto was getting hot under the collar, he knew it, and he knew he might end up coming off really rude towards the Ultimate Princess. He couldn’t stop it.

Sonia, on the other hand, kept as calm as she could, even if she was still clearly excited. “They merely have a different approach to the world than you do. We advance as a society by researching, and understanding, alternative and countercultural value systems. Even criminals who seek to achieve society’s own goals, such as wealth and fame, or truth and justice, but pick unsavory means to achieve them, can teach us so much. That is what I believe, anyway.”

“I mean, that might be true, but even if we can learn from them… Sonia, I, uh.” Makoto was not a person used to anger or debate, and he ran out of steam fast, soon realizing his situation. “Look. I’m sorry, I, uh.”

“I am not _insulted_ , Makoto!” Sonia said. “If anything, you’ve given me a chance to actually talk about one of my fondest hobbies, rather than just ranting at somebody who couldn’t care less. If I can consider the point of view of infamous criminals, do you not believe that Sonia Nevermind can accommodate people who disagree with her as well?!”

At least she wasn’t mad at him, and Makoto, having said his piece, could go back to the search. Even with what she said, he tried to remember what Kyouko said. Just because he felt things so deeply, and cared so much, didn’t mean he always had to express it. Even if he did, he could control how he did so.

He was still thinking on that when they finally, finally struck paydirt.

“Oh ho. I wondered whether we missed something, Makoto. And now it is confirmed.” Sonia held up the new book into the light, for him to see. “This tome appears to be a nonfiction book written about the meteor storms. As in, the incident that Hajime and the other amnesiacs reported.”

“About the meteors?! No way!” If true, this was a record of events, from the outside world, relating to the memories that the two of them in the library had yet to even experience personally. Physical, printed evidence.

That must have been the key. Nobody knew what to look for before now, since their memories weren’t recovered to that point. Sonia and Makoto were the first ones to search the library with that goal in mind, and bam.

As if it had been left for them as a clue, here it was. The info they sought.

“Way, my dude. Behold! It’s in Spanish too, and has been printed in the past six months. Considering how long it would take to write even a short book and run it through old-style publishing methods? And the fact that it references translated Japanese news reports? I proclaim this with absolute certainty, Makoto. This book is at least a year old, perhaps more.”

The way Makoto thought about the world didn’t include thousands of meteors falling from space and levelling entire cities. The things this book said made no sense at all. Tokyo had to be fully evacuated?

Why had he never heard of that? How was it possible? So many people.

Was there some kind of cover-up in place? Mass media control?

Was Byakuya not kidding when he ranted about ‘control of the world’ and stuff?

No. None of this was possible at all. Class 1’s washing machine could probably post to Makoto’s Twitter account, if they got internet service out here. Everyone was recording everything, at all times, in all places. Even Monokuma was threatening to broadcast their undoing live across the world, before Usami put him down.

Everyone across the world would be talking about even a single meteor that blasted into a major city, much less hundreds or thousands crashing all over. Across the world, in places from, according to the book, Madrid, to Jakarta, to Tokyo, to New York, and many more.

Everyone always talked about how they lived in a ‘post 9/11’ world. After one, much smaller, strike against a single American city! This was like, two hundred 9/11s, everywhere! From the sky!

No. Even for their current situation, even with a princess who gushed about serial killers, this was too much to accept.

The only possible way this all fit together involved their lost memories, the lost stretches of time from them all attending HPA together. Had everyone really been going there for at least a full year, during which these catastrophes unfolded, people went mad and hunted the Ultimates, and all that?

This was too much to take in, but everyone had to know about this. There were just a few issues to clear up.

Makoto didn’t know Spanish, for one. Not a word. Luckily, Sonia provided, and she kept going even as he pondered. “‘Astronomers warned us this was merely the first of several oncoming waves. Yet we breathed a sigh of relief when it was finally ‘over’. We thought that God had granted us a reprieve, until it began again. The second wave was even more destructive. Scientists predict more are coming. It is very possible that we are living in the end of days.’ Hm.”

He shook his head. “Pretty dramatic, there. ‘End of days’.”

“Naturally, many people took such events as signs of the times, Makoto. As the author writes, ‘even now’, people are out in the streets, chanting the ‘new slogan’ of the so-called Remnants of Despair.”

That term, the name of the group that Kyouko and Hajime talked about. “Their slogan?”

Sonia repeated it, as cheerfully as she might recite some old prayer. Her eyes lit up. “Why, it’s simple and very pithy. **‘Mankind deserves damnation.’** ”

 

* * *

 

As the overgrown grass and weeds were trimmed back everywhere else on Third Island, Leon Kuwata’s Ultimate Lab grew ever more absurd to Hajime.

The only part that looked like it wasn’t decades-abandoned was the musical stage and instruments. The actual baseball field was a tangled wreck, with ruins surrounded by swaying tall grass. Really, it was more like Ibuki had gotten her Ultimate Lab than anything. She’d been spending a ton of time there.

When Hajime just wanted to hang out with somebody and take his mind off his worries, he knew who to go to. He knew where to find her, too. Guaranteed. Sure enough, as usual, she was there, practicing for the upcoming festival on Friday.

God help them all.

Especially given that Hajime was about to increase her musical power, maybe. He wasn’t sure about the product descriptions given out at Celeste’s casino. The metal item he had hidden behind his back was supposed to have the power to destroy the entire world, if it was used by somebody who was ‘in-tune enough’.

Well, maybe it wasn’t much of a risk after all.

“Good nom-nom-noming!” Ibuki waved to Hajime, putting down her guitar at his approach and skipping over to the edge of the stage. Nothing that Ibuki did was with anything less than four thousand percent of her being, even a casual greeting.

“How long have you been practicing this morning on somebody else’s equipment?”

“How long have you been in the casino, trying to win an item to get you more social link points with Ibuki?~”

“Nngh.” Point taken. “No point hiding it, huh.”

“That thing is almost as big as you are, Hajime!” It was pretty freaking heavy.

Maybe Sakura had a point about his physique. Hajime was indeed starting to regret his noodle arms. At least having to walk everywhere was getting his legs into a shape. It was just like living on a big, spread-out campus. A campus, in the middle of the ocean. With no way out. No escape. And no way to contact his family. And a ton of his memories taken away.

And if that book Makoto and Sonia found could be trusted, which nobody could establish, the world might be in even worse shape than anyone had dared to suspect…

Yeah, Hajime definitely needed a jam session with Ibuki. Stat.

Her silly antics and overflowing personality was like a beacon of light shining in darkness. She brought levity to his daily routine, and he could be annoyed by that sometimes. It even felt like she was just disconnected from reality. That disconnect could be helpful, and even healthy, though. It meant she didn’t let all these secrets and reveals and twists and turns get her down, ever. As far as Hajime knew, she just rolled with it, did what she wanted, and kept up her free spirit.

He didn’t realize how much he needed that sense of fun in his life until she spent more and more time at Leon’s lab, practicing, which meant she bothered Hajime less. Which led to him coming here, more and more, to Ibuki’s own vocal delight.

Just one week ago, the mere idea that he’d be willingly spending time, sometimes hours each day, with Ibuki, learning from her boundless ‘wisdom’, would have been patently absurd. Hajime would have laughed at Hiro if he made such a prediction. Or, like, in general. Yet, there he was, standing up on stage with the punk rock girl.

“Something that big and weird can only come from one place. Celeste’s kickin’ rad casino!”

“Yeah. You just said I was there, that’s not much of a revelation.”

“So, it really is for Ibuki?~” She shuffled around, wearing her usual modified schoolgirls’ uniform, with the most prominent and flashy bits being the ripped thigh-highs. The bright blue and pink color scheme on some of her accessories, and bits of her elaborate hair, really stood out, even in broad daylight. At night, they reacted well to the light of glow sticks, coated in some kind of reflective surface. At least she was at no risk of being hit by the copious traffic.

“Yeah. If you want it.”

The rock star who’d captivated the hearts of countless guys, and just as many girls, scratched her head. “Ibuki has no actual clue what she will do with a huge tuning fork, tbh.”

“Ah, well. I wondered about that…”

“That’s why this gift is so awesome, Hajimeme! My brother, you understand Ibuki’s soul!”

“I do?” He honestly didn’t feel like he knew anything about her, even now, but maybe that was the point. Maybe he was starting to get more in-tune with her, so to speak, on a much deeper level than he realized.

“Boredom is death, and chaos is life! It’s just like Junjunjunko was saying in those election speeches.”

It made sense that Ibuki would be on board with Junko’s platform. Which was essentially that doing the expected, conventional, correct move could be really freaking boring. So why not try something fresh and new, even if it sounded like a bad idea?

Well, Hajime could and did reply, because bad ideas are bad. How about that?

Yet, there was an appealing, primal sense of appeal to that kind of stance. She also talked a lot about freedom, which means she was good at copying the politicians she might have seen on TV or met.

Hajime didn’t pay it too much mind, since his only concerns would be the Captain, and Kaito had that on lock. Hajime sure wasn’t going to vote for a douchebag, even as a ‘joke’. Kaito had so much exuberance and energy, he could be annoying sometimes, he was inflexible and he just yelled a lot, but he was doing his best for everyone.

The real question was Class 2’s rep.

An arrogant, fat rich man talking down to everybody like they were four, versus an insane chuuni who never, in all three years of high school, grew out of that at all. Apparently. Representing a foreign princess who claimed she just wanted to be friends with everyone.

The less said about election speeches, the better.

So many words. So little meaning. So much raw insanity.

Himiko the magician girl was actually at Class 2 a lot, because she suspected Gundham was trying to mesmerize everyone with a magic spell. Hajime couldn't even rule that out, because he did in fact feel like his mind was going blank whenever he tried to process even one thing that the Ultimate Animal Breeder said.

Naturally, Ibuki loved every second of it. Her and Nagito had made sure to drag Hajime and Chiaki to the debates. There was little to actually debate, of course. it was mostly just a way for the people of Gopher Island to pass the time, but man, did that time pass.

Could Friday just hurry up and get here already?

Ibuki was stoked for it, too. “Our band has been granted a place of, like, honor and stuff during the festival, Hajime! Sonia was talking about it earlier.”

To avoid any ‘bias’, and show their community spirit, all of the frontrunning candidates had agreed to handle setting up the festival grounds together on Thursday. So that Friday could be the day of their celebrations, the election, and of course, when Usami was finally supposed to come down and grace everyone with her presence again.

That would be super extra freaking great, wouldn’t it. Maybe Friday could take its time.

Hajime could already sweep his gaze around the field near the stadium, and see evidence of work done both by the Exisals, and by hand. Including a number of half-built frames of festival stalls. Paper streamers and decorations littered the grounds, looking more like there had already been a festival, and then a tornado blew through the wreckage, giving Leon’s lab an even more messy and derelict feel.

Hajime had to wonder if the Ultimate Baseball Star’s room was getting similarly messy. At least his ended up clean because, when Mikan kept breaking in to ‘check up’ on her ‘patient’, she also obsessively sorted through his clothing and put it up.

Occasionally stealing bits, like his underwear, distressingly enough. Reporting that to Shuichi was too humiliating to contemplate, so what could he even do about it? Come to think of it, Ibuki did the same thing! Talking about getting ‘cheevos’ and ‘completing report cards’ or some other wacky thing, while Chiaki got excited, and got That Look in her eyes.

What was it with girls and his undergarments?

It was lucky Usami could conjure more with literal magic, or things would get really awkward on laundry day.

“I guess it makes sense that the Ultimate Musician will perform at the Ultimate Festival.”

Yes, that’s really what they were calling it. Their little island society apparently didn’t have any other adjectives available, ever.

“It’ll be kind of like a concert.”

“No, no.” Ibuki did that thing where she grew a long, pointy nose somehow. “Listening, you are not! Patience, the boy lacks patience!” Ibuki Mioda, living drug trip, said with something approaching a straight face. Which was the most impressive feat she’d ever pulled off on stage yet, in Hajime’s private opinion.

“We’re going to be putting on a full-blown concert! So, it’s time for you to decide what part you’re gonna play during the show!”

During the show? So he was in? Was that decided, perhaps, without consulting him? As usual? Even if he felt annoyance at that, the fact that he was being included did warm Hajime’s heart. “Like, finally choosing my instrument?”

Ibuki nodded proudly. “Exactly! I think you’re ready, mah boi.”

“I feel like we didn’t do a lot of actual musical practice when we hung out, though.”

“You’re still not so hot at actually playing. Like at all. Like, whoa.”

Ouch.

“But we can totally just fake it! Maybe dub over it live, and fool everybody!”

Was that really something the Ultimate Musician should be saying? Wasn’t talent really important? If Hajime didn’t have it, at least in this field, did he even have the right to be up on stage with her? Well, Ibuki herself clearly did not share that concern, so who was he to argue?

“So! Bass, keyboard, or drums?”

Hajime wasn’t sure. Bluntly, he had no aptitude for any of those. He’d never really participated in band back in high school or anything. At least, he thought he didn’t. Probably. He picked at random. “Uh, I’m all about that bass.”

“Eeh! Nice reference, but wrong answer!”

“That was a test?”

“You’ll totally upstage Ibuki if you play the bass!”

Hajime strongly doubted that. “Okay, then. How about the keyboard?”

“Kaede’s going to be playing that, duh! You think you’re better than the Ultimate Pianist’s Mozart-tier powers?!”

“Why are you giving me options if I can’t pick them?! Okay, then, can I not play the drums, either?”

“Nah, the drums are open. In fact, it would be a great role for you. Heck, you just need to smash them like Nagito and Mikan, my man.” There was a lot there Hajime wanted to respond to, but he had learned better than to even try. “Even if you just flail around without a clue, it should look convincing. Playing drums doesn’t even really require skill!”

Every drummer in the world would want to wring her neck for that one.

Hajime sighed. “I don’t know why you’d bother with me. I think I’ve made it pretty clear over the past week that my forgotten talent was not in any kind of musical area.” He looked down at the guitar he’d picked up, and tried to strum a few chords. Only to drop the chip several times before giving up.

“Still on that, huh? Listen, Hajime.” Ibuki put her hands on her hips and leaned forward.

“Oh, really? We’re going to have a moment now, are we?”

“Ibuki can be serious! For very brief stretches of time, so listen up! You’re a part of Ibuki’s band! We already decided this, which means when Ibuki goes on stage, so too does your skinny butt! More importantly, though, you need to raise your head up high. Your past doesn’t matter!”

Hajime stared at her. “What?”

Ibuki explained, “There’s no such thing as a static person! Everyone is always changing. Just by being alive, you’re a different guy than you were yesterday. Yet, like. The Hajime I’ve always known is the same Hajime who’s here right now, yeah?”

“I guess so,” Hajime admitted. “If you want to look at it that way. From your perspective, I haven’t lost anything or changed that much, since you never knew me before.”

Ibuki nodded, swaying around back and forth. “You’re totally the type of guy who’d travel far and wide. Not to become the Pokemon master, but to understand your true self. But the fact is, Ibuki has learned from countless performances, and being in the spotlight. And from metric tons of band drama and girl drama and, just, drama drama. She’s learned a few real important things. And above all! There’s no ‘real you’. There’s just you!”

Ibuki frowned in a manner that, if Hajime didn’t know her better, he’d describe as ‘meek’ or ‘sheepish’. Expressions quite alien to her liberally-pierced lip and bright eyes. “Sorry. Ibuki got really out-of-character there. Maybe you really did max out my social link, Hajime. You know what that means, right?~”

“W-What does it mean?”

Ibuki stared at him for a moment, and then frowned. Before abruptly exploding into another flurry of activity, as per her usual. “That I’m losing to you ahoge freaks, of course! Ibuki’s gotta get it in gear, and start giving these dank-ass gifts Ibuki has been collecting to all the cute girls! So I don’t lose for real!”

A true, deep bond of friendship was a beautiful thing to have.

Thus it was decided. Even though Hajime still had a ways to go, he would go up on stage with Ibuki during the festival. The two would bash out something that resembled human music, along with whatever other acts the Ultimates were going to put together.

Talent shows really took on a new meaning when everyone was an Ultimate, huh.

It wasn’t like Hajime was going to stop trying to find himself because of one conversation, and the hole in his mind was still there, and he still wouldn’t stop until it was filled. But what Ibuki said, about the Hajime that she knew, stuck with him for a long time afterwards. It made his search a little less like a frantic quest for meaning in his life.

It was a way of looking at the world he’d never even considered, so wrapped up in his own worries.

He was still driven, but now a little less ‘driven mad’. Except when she drove him mad.

It was just one of the many, many reasons why he was glad to hang out with Ibuki. And glad to call her a friend.

Through their growing bonds the Ultimates could build a real sense of community on this lazy island paradise.


	19. 1-9. Free Time Events III (Multiple)

The wreckage was finally gone. However, Tranquility Beach still bore the Scar.

Usami’s final attack was powerful enough to carve a gash right down the beach. A swath of complete destruction.

At high tide, this led to the creation of a new, shallow stream running between pure white sands. The water within it was darker, because the sand there, on a line with the spot Monokuma was standing, was at the center of the blast. It had melted into actual glass on the spot, forming a black coating beneath the water.

Usami said the Exisals were busy with other things. The next set of eleven Ultimate Labs, as well as carving back the wilderness. So, there was no time to fill in the gap. It wasn’t steep enough to cause a hazard, and most of the public beachfront was still perfectly usable.

Kaede couldn’t help but think there was another cause. Perhaps the same reason Usami didn’t show up for the meeting last Friday. Or why Mahiru’s photo of the message plaque had vanished. Their Professor was emphasizing through indirect methods that she was the ultimate power on this island.

Hopefully that wasn’t it. Kaede couldn’t let herself fall into that way of thinking. She’d decided to trust Usami, to trust in hope. Just like Kaito. They had to set an example. How else could either of them ask anyone to vote for them?

She still couldn’t help staring at the Scar with her purple eyes whenever she came to the beach. Like this particular Tuesday night. The third Tuesday of their stay, Day Nine. When the Ultimates came to Gopher Island, the moon was full, and its light shone down on the exhausted, waterlogged, bruised and battered Ultimates recovering from Monokuma’s attack.

Now, it was just a sliver of light above the water, reflected by the calm ocean tides that shimmered just as brightly from all the stars. Instead of everyone gathering there, it was just a few people, by choice. The ones who agreed to meet every day for training some days back. It wasn’t really like the rigorous and incredible training regimens that the athletes and battle specialists were keeping up to stay in shape, it was just hanging out. By now, it had become a happy little routine. Just some time to themselves, with nobody else.

Just Kaito, Shuichi, herself, and...

“Maki?”

The black-haired girl would have blended into the darkened, lowlight surroundings, if her skin wasn’t pale, and if it wasn’t for all the bright red. Her eyes could seem to glow. Right now, she was relaxed, for her. She met Kaede’s curious gaze with a neutral, blank expression.

“Hey.”

Other people might have taken it for an unfriendly glare. Or a glower of raw hatred. Nope. Kaede had seen those for real, and regretted the experience. No points for guessing who in Class 53 got Maki into that state. Even Kokichi knew to stay away after he’d done it, though. Her talent might have been unknown, but apparently she could handle disorderly children pretty well.

“Kaede, glad to see you _on time_ today!” Kaito waved from his towel laid out on the beachfront near the water. His beloved, and admittedly very cool galactic jacket, was already carefully folded up to the side, leaving him in just a t-shirt with that unique red design. It reminded her of Nagito and Leon, who featured similar shapes. Maybe it was some kind of boy-fad? Oh well.

“One day, Kaito. I was late yesterday.”

“Just one minute's weakness can end your life, out in space! Much less a day!”

“I’m never _going_ into space! Not until the ISS needs a pianist for its jazz lounge.” Kaede reflectively opened and closed her fists, to try and sate the tingling in her fingers.

She could always go to that electronic keyboard Leon kindly offered. Blech. She’d get plenty of it during the Ultimate Festival, during her performance with Ibuki, Hajime, and Sayaka.

“That actually sounds pretty cool,” Shuichi said, smiling. He was doing a lot more of that recently. It warmed Kaede’s heart to see it, and helped put her cravings out of her head. Even if the Ultimate Pianist knew that she wasn’t the only reason why Shuichi had grown more comfortable in his own skin.

Unlike with the other class rep elections, Kaede and Angie managed to keep things entirely civil between them. Kaede was happy to consider her a friend, and Angie made it clear she thought the same.

So there was nothing to worry about. Even if the days she spent in the Togami Manor’s study had been fascinating. Even if Twogami wasn’t such a bad guy, and he definitely had Kaede’s support in his own race. He didn’t know what he was talking about here. There was no way Kaede and Angie would end up fighting. Especially not over a boy, come on. What was this, middle school?

They were adults. They were university students. They were Ultimates!

Kaede smiled at their guest. “So, what brings you out here, Maki? If I can ask.”

“Isn’t it obvious? The same idiot who brings you two out here every night by nagging you to come until you just break down and agree.”

“Haha! That’s right, that’s the… hey! Who’re you callin’ an idiot?!”

Maki stared at him. “You. Kaito Momota. Luminary of the Stars.”

“Nngh. Sounds like it’s time for us to begin our damn push-ups! Let’s go for a hundred, and then see how much trash you feel like talking, Maki!”

“A hundred?! Right off the bat?” Kaede blanched. Push-ups were tough on her in a variety of ways, and Kaito should have known that by now. “Come on.”

Kaede would sooner set foot on an alien planet then she would change Kaito’s mind.

She couldn’t say what Maki’s lost talent was, but it had to be something physical. She was a beast. Her lithe, toned figure, and strong arms and legs did pushups so quickly, she’d finished her allotment of a hundred, and asked if that was it, before Kaede herself had cranked out a painful ten.

“No! Of course that’s not it! Just take a rest while we finish up, you’ve earned it.”

Maki was far more of a beast than Kaito himself, who liked to chat and malinger. At least when he got into gear, he could do the push-ups, belting out his count loud and clear across the peaceful beachfront. He did better than Shuichi, who struggled, but did his best. He was sweating visibly in his white button-up shirt, just trying to get to a hundred, bit by bit. Then finally, there was Kaede. The piano-player with a lot of extra everything. Just trying to get her elbows to bend the right way. Then having to worry about mashing some of that extra Kaede in front into the ground too hard, and getting sore.

At least Maki didn’t have that particular concern, even if she was still pretty dang sexy, with the whole mysterious edgy loner thing going on, and being so strong and capable-

At fifty-something, Kaede collapsed onto the beach towel with a sigh, nearly heaving up dinner. Her stomach, back, and arms all felt like they were on fire. Just like usual, her chest was numb, too, although she had enough decorum to avoid trying to rub some feeling back into it right in front of the guys. At least this was getting easier. Each day she forced herself into this routine, it was easier than the day before.

Shuichi was at her side quickly. “Hey, regardless of what Kaito says, don’t push yourself so much, okay? Tenko says that training too much is actually worse than not doing any exercise at all, sometimes.”

“You have changed, Shuichi,” Kaede admitted, giving a pained smile up at him.

“Yeah, that’s obvious,” Kaito agreed, putting an arm around Shuichi and pulling him closer than the Ultimate Detective was expecting. Personal space wasn’t something one of Kaito’s ‘bros’ got, apparently. Not that Shuichi looked too unhappy being so close and buddy-buddy with the big guy.

“Y’know, Kaede, you made fun of the idea of the International Space Station having a jazz lounge. However, that’s actually a beautiful way to describe my dream!”

“It is? A jazz lounge in space?” Kaede was doubtful, as usual when it came to Kaito and his grand vision for the future.

“Think about it! Why do you think I’m going up there in the first place? Maki?”

Maki was separated from this lovefest in every sense. Her red eyes gravitated longingly towards the exit. She was caught off-guard by this question, like a student who was sleeping in class getting called on. “Knowing you, it’s probably just ‘cuz it’s there’.”

“Not a bad guess, if I was your _average_ astronaut.”

“Can astronauts really be just average?” Shuichi wondered.

“However, I am the Ultimate Astronaut. I’m not just going up there. I’m taking all of you with me! Everyone! I’ll forge a path for humanity to the stars.” He pointed straight up, towards the beautiful, peacefully twinkling points of light overhead. They covered the entire sky like a blanket, and from where Kaede was laying, they didn’t look so out of reach. Kaito’s finger, reaching high, looked like he was about to touch some of them, like the ceiling was just there.

When Kaito talked about it, it felt like they could do it, somehow. Kaede got swept up in his pace, in the way he spoke so forcefully, with such great conviction.

“That’s the dream! The astronauts go in first, and establish safe ways for others to follow. Detectives. Athletes. Even musicians. One day, we’ll _live_ out there. Settlements, colonies, society. We’ll cast off from the Earth.”

“This guy…” Maki shook her head. “You really think, after the Ultimate Hunt and the meteors, the world is in any shape to launch space missions?”

“Maki, come on,” Kaede said from her side, looking over at the reclusive girl. Who was also sitting down, and looked more like she was curling into a ball. She stared down at her towel. “He’s just talking about his dreams.”

“Exactly,” Kaito nodded. “The world wasn’t too hot on space travel even before all this happened. Think about how much we as a species got done during like, the Cold War. Versus modern times. I’m not saying we didn’t accomplish things lately, but we should already be on Mars by now, damnit! At least! If anything, the meteors just prove how badly we’ve gotta get up there.”

Shuichi nodded. “That’s a really good point. We can’t keep all our eggs in just one basket, huh. If the Earth was hit by enough of those meteors, or even just one really huge one…”

“That’s my sidekick for you! If we get another of those huge meteor storms, it’s over! Unless we spread out, and colonize other worlds. That’s why I think you’ll be great for the space program too, Kaede!”

“I couldn’t even do the push-ups,” She said softly, unable to meet his burning gaze.

“Tch. You’re stronger than you were before. And you’ll get stronger still! Just like Shuichi here, he’s way, way better at talking to girls now than he was.”

“Kaito, come on, that wasn’t why I started hanging out with them.”

“It’s true, though. Maki! Stop looking so dour all the time. You’ve lost something important, but you’ll get it back. And if you keep coming to these daily training sessions, you’ll get something even more important than physical strength.”

“Yeah?”

Kaito nodded solemnly. “Friendship.”

“Since I finished my task, that means I’m free to go, right?” Maki stood up. “See you later.”

Off she went.

Kaito sighed. “How long is she going to keep running away from everyone?”

Kaede shook her head. “That felt more like she just got tired of us.”

“Nah. She’s running scared. I mean, this is a big step for her. Far as I know, it’s the first time she’s hung out with anyone, anywhere, in the whole time since we came to Gopher Island. Hope she comes tomorrow, too. We make it the new normal. Usami’ll like it, too.” Kaito paused, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry for inviting her without telling you guys.”

Kaede shook her head. “No, you’re right. It’s encouraging to see her stretch those legs. What legs they are, too. Like, whoa. Did you guys see? The red thigh-highs just, like, emphasize the thickness~”

“Kaede, you’re sounding like a creepy old man again…” Shuichi shook his head. “Anyway, uh. Guys, good luck on Friday. I know you can do it. There’s a reason everyone fell into line behind you two in the first days. You’ve both helped me a lot.”

Kaito grinned wide. “Thanks, bro. However, isn’t that a little bit of a conflict of interest? I know Angie wants to win just as bad. I’m sure she’s asked for your support, too. Are you just gonna support both of them, and ignore Chiaki’s advice? Or are you gonna take the stuffed animal home yourself? Or… pick a side?”

Kaede wanted to object. To say that there were no ‘sides’ in this thing, that everyone was friends. However, in the election, you could only vote for one or the other. So, well. He wasn’t wrong, here. About this one thing, Shuichi would have to make his choice.

“Whatever happens, we’ll sort it out together. Win or lose, our goals are still the same,” Kaede said. “Explore the rest of this island, figure out all the mysteries that are left, get everyone’s memories back. And if something else like Monokuma comes along, or if the traitors are real…”

“We’ll take em out together!” Kaito proclaimed. “That’s the spirit. Come on, guys, it’s gettin’ chilly for once. Let’s pack it in.”

“Hey, you’re the one with the jacket,” Kaede objected, although she helped pack up the beach equipment.

“Oh, and don’t forget,” Kaito said, “Tsumugi found what we were looking for. Operation Yukata is a go for anyone who wants one on Friday. I bet you’re gonna be extra grateful you worked out with us-”

The stupid grinning idiot ducked Kaede’s wadded-up beach towel as if he knew it was coming.

* * *

 

People acted like Kaede had telepathy.

No, that would be far more cool than what she did have. Which were just a set of well-trained, sensitive musician’s ears. She could probably hear more than Ibuki, but was sensitive to loud noises in exchange. The fact that Ibuki wasn’t actually deaf was one of the most impressive things about her.

Kaede tuned a lot of extra noise out. In fact, in Gopher Island’s expansive outdoors areas, with natural noises all over, meant she usually couldn’t pick anything up.

Occasionally, she absorbed some interesting things. Such as when she approached the Route 53 Diner on Second Island, for a meeting with the most unlikely sort of friend. She ended up hearing his voice, along with another, deeper, more feminine one, conversing out behind the Diner before it even came into view. The direction was just right for it, though. The words were faint, as if they were deliberately trying to keep it down.

Which just prompted her to listen harder, but she still only got faint snippets.

Fuyuhiko’s voice came first. _“Maybe not, but... What about the two… island who can pretend…”_

There it was, Peko. Just like Kaede thought. _“... true ...”_

_“... totally alone, be careful anyway…. not really me… Now scram… I can trust her.”_

_“... she looks like Natsu-”_

As Fuyuhiko raised his voice, it became easier to make out full sentences. _“Fuck’s sake, go find some of your own hobbies. Take up swimming classes with the wimps, for all I care.”_

Peko’s voice sounded, well. Hurt. That was a new one. Something getting through the Ultimate Swordswoman’s icy-cold demeanor. _“If you really feel that way, fine.”_

Kaede decided to give it a few minutes before she approached the diner.

When she did, she was greeted in what was becoming a traditional fashion by its sole occupant. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, shook his head. "You shouldn't bother with this kinda crap." He might say that, but the babyface gangster, who looked younger than almost anyone else on the island, couldn’t help a grin as he looked over Kaede’s latest tribute.

"Really? You look happy. You'll accept my gift, right? So why not?" Kaede grinned, sliding the Japanese-style white and blue tea cup over the table towards him.

"It's just a thing. I already got enough things. More'n enough.” He reached down tugging at the collar of his well-tailored pinstripe suit. Traditional mafia fare, at least in movies. He certainly didn’t disappoint her expectations there. “Tryin' to buy people with gifts, are you?"

Kaede nodded playfully. "It works on nearly anyone. Even edgemasters who want to pretend like they don't need any friends." She replied, leaning back against her side of the soft red… thing that, like, you could rest against in a diner booth. She wasn't really used to this American-style establishment. okay? To find Romans, though, you had to go to Rome. It was already rare to catch Fuyuhiko outside. When he did venture forth, he could usually be found here.

"Hey, don't get the wrong idea. If Usami wasn't on my balls about this, I'd be happy to stay far away from you all."

Kaede shrugged. "Even if I wanted to bribe you, it wouldn't be nearly the worst thing people are doing for votes. Nor would it be very smart, because you can't even vote for me in the first place."

"That's true. Hey, come to think of it, you look a little... stressed out. Worried you might lose?" Fuyuhiko asked, smirking.

She was undaunted. "Aw, you noticed! I'm glad you're concerned about me, Fuyuhiko."

 _"Tch._ As if. I just figured you might be worried about losing in public to that insane chick." The mafioso glared daggers at her, but his babyface got so red that it completely cancelled out the intimidation factor he was going for. Not that she'd ever say that to him, because even though she got closer than most people on this island, he was still, in fact, the Ultimate Yakuza.

By all rights, Kaede should have wanted to be as far from him as possible.

Here she was, though, and not for the first time.

Well, maybe it all evened out. Since she couldn't really tell why she was being tolerated, while others who tried to approach him were all rebuffed and threatened with various forms of sengoku-era torture.

"Angie's not insane. She's just... really different. Eccentric."

"That sounds like a polite way of saying 'insane' to me. Come on, I'm not here to bullshit."

"Alright, then. Now I'm curious. Who are you gonna vote for?"

"Tch. If I even bother doing that, then it's obvious. That fat fuck's attitude might piss me right off, but a whole lot of things do that. The princess, on the other hand? She just, like. She ain't even really running, have you noticed that? She just lets the chuuni boy say literally everything for her. She's said like three things all day. Like she's just some kinda showroom piece. Or a doll, or somethin'. That's supposed to be a fuckin' leader?"

While Kaede wouldn't phrase it like that, she'd made similar observations. She couldn't deny what he said. "I wonder why. Makoto told me she was troubled by something, maybe relating to the election... hm. That's weird, though. I assumed the boys would just go for the gorgeous foreigner by default. Just like how Junko's getting votes by showing more and more skin throughout the week.”

“Ain’t none of my concern what that bimbo does.”

“Oh really? I mean, I figured you had a thing for blondes, just like Kazuichi~"

"I told you not to poke fun at me, bitch. I-It definitely ain't like that at all!"

Anyone else would be getting a piece of her mind for addressing her in such a disrespectful fashion. Really, it was just a sign that Fuyuhiko was Gotten To. Being able to poke a gangster's cheek, every so often, was thrilling. Like she was playing with a caged tiger. "Mhm. Sure~ I believe you."

"No, you don't get it. Fine, if it'll get you off that, then I'll just say, like. Blondes really ain't my type at all. I mean, my sister's a blonde, so. Whenever I see a blonde, I just think of her, bam. Boner kryptonite."

That was a metaphor Kaede didn't need to know. It was a subject matter she also never needed to think about, thanks. It also meant she'd just learned something cute about him, though. "So. Your sister. Ooh. Is that it? Do I remind you of her? What's she like? What’s her name?~"

"... Natsumi. You look like her. Like, a lot. It took me by surprise at first. If I had a photo, I’d… it’s like you’re her twin sister.”

“Ooh. Interesting, as I thought.” So, that’s who ‘Natsu’ was. Wow, Fuyuhiko really was talking with Peko a lot, if she knew that kind of family detail. That was also worth noting.

“But you're nothing like her on the inside."

Aw.

"I mean, she's a mega-bitch. You just seem like a decent person. A civilian, who ain’t wrapped up in all the… all the shit of being on the inside. So that's one huge difference."

Huh.

"Hey. What's that look for? Don't get me wrong here. Family is everything, Kaede. For a Yakuza, especially a Kuzuryu. Family is fuckin' everything.” He looked her square in the eyes, and the color drained from his face. “I'd kill somebody for her, and you know that ain't no figure of speech.”

“I still don’t know about all that,” Kaede replied calmly, trying not to feel like she was in over her depth.

“I guess a civilian can’t get it, and I hope you never do. But just because blood is blood, and I’d help her if she ever got into trouble, don’t mean I can't admit that she's, like, the Alpha Bitch. Seriously. I heard all three years of high school, she just couldn’t even make a friend because she was so… worked up."

Who did _that_ sound like?

"That still means you're thinking of her, huh? I'm sorry, Fuyuhiko. I didn't realize it, but you're really a kind person, aren't you?" She smiled.

"You need to have your head examined, sis. Look at who you're talkin' to. I kill people for a living."

"Ryoma said something like that, too.” Kaede dipped her voice as low as it would go to try and match the Ultimate Tennis Pro’s baritone. “ _'I'm a murderer. You'd better not come up behind me like that.'_ I won't pretend to understand anything about your life. We live in different worlds." Kaede shook her head. "And I sure won’t pretend that I agree with breaking the law. Or hurting people. I think it’s wrong.”

“Yeah, I know. Typical civilian point of view. But that just means I gotta ask again. What gives? Why do you bother showin’ up here? Talkin’ with me? Getting gifts and all that?”

“It’s because that’s not where the similarities end with Ryoma. You both try to push people away.”

Fuyuhiko sighed, sipping his cup of hot black coffee. “I get it. That’s a problem because our mission on this fuckin’ stupid island is basically to make nice and hold hands, right? So I’m an annoyance to you?”

Kaede crossed her arms and leaned forward. “You know I don’t think that way about anyone.”

“Oh yeah? Not even the artist girl?”

“Don’t you start, too. All anyone wants to talk about or gossip over is how we’re bound to have a fight, or something. We’re the only candidates who aren’t ripping each others’ heads off. So why do people say that?”

Fuyuhiko shrugged. “Maybe they’re just hoping for some soap opera shit to go down. Or drama. I have to admit, this island is boring as sin. Actually, no, sin is way more enjoyable. The gothic chick’s casino just ain’t like the real thing, y’know?”

No, Kaede didn’t have a lot of experience with real casinos and sin. Thankfully. “If you’re bored, would you reconsider going to the festival?”

“This again. There’s no point. For either me, or noone else. It’s not like anyone would want a criminal around, right? I’d spoil the mood just by bein’ around. And I got no interest. So it would just be pointless.”

Kaede clapped her hands together. “Really? What if I told you that Peko decided she was going?~”

Fuyuhiko stared at her. “And? What’s that got to do with me?”

“Nice try, but you’re blushing.”

“I’m just getting overheated in here! The AC’s off! Some fucker was in here messin’ with stuff.” Well, yeah, this was a public facility. As much as Fuyuhiko wanted to lay claim to this area, other people were allowed to do stuff in it, like host parties or whatever.

“Come on, Fuyuhiko. If I know the gossip about me, I certainly know what they’re saying about you and Peko. There’s no reason to hide it, you know.”

“What ‘they’re’ saying is all a load of shit, Kaede. I don’t even know that chick, much less-”

Kaede coughed. “I may have heard a little bit of you two talking before you came in.”

Fuyuhiko clenched his fist. “Those fuckin’ golden ears of yours. What did you actually hear?”

“Everything. So you may as well just tell me what’s up between you and her! All the juicy details.”

The Ultimate Yakuza sighed. “You don’t know a damn thing, or you’d come up with something better than that. Look. I talk with her. We ended up on guard duty a bunch. Back when anybody was bothering to do that shit consistently. Even now, we just cross paths, and she doesn’t piss me the fuck off. Like everyone else in my damn ‘class’ does, without fail.”

“They are a wacky bunch,” Kaede admitted. “Peko’s like a rock in the storm. Or something. Hey, my one talent is piano, that’s all I’ve got.”

“Clearly. I’d tell you off for snooping on me, but you can’t exactly just not be the Ultimate Pianist, right? I’d have to be careful because of Ibuki anyway.”

Boys of all types needed to very careful indeed around her, yes. “All I’m saying is, if Peko goes to the festival, and you happen to run into her there. In her yukata, maybe? Hanging out, maybe you two end up talking alone? Well. Nobody would think that was strange, right?”

Fuyuhiko’s cheeks were still glowing. “I’ll think about it. That’s my final word, though. Drop it.”

‘That’s all I wanted to hear. Thank you, Fuyuhiko.”

“It’s nothin’. Now c’mon, let’s see what Usami left for us behind the counter this time. Fuckin’ starving. Come to think of it, you notice how scarce Usami’s made herself lately?”

“Actually, yeah. Any ideas?”

“I haven’t had a clue what the skinny was since we got here, and that’s no lie. I’m still not convinced this isn’t some rival clan pulling off the most elaborate hoax in history.”

“That’s low on the theory list,” Kaede shook her head. “Somewhere between ‘aliens did it’ and ‘we’re actually on mars’.”

* * *

 

Heavy wooden doors creaked open. Out peeked a head of purple hair, flowing down in long braids on either side of Touko Fukawa, Ultimate Writing Prodigy. She looked furtively to and fro. Perhaps worried that Shuichi had the SWAT team with him. Or, more plausibly, a band of girls in black hats. When she confirmed that he was alone, Touko pulled back, and motioned for him to quickly follow. When he did, she sealed up the door behind herself, and closed the many locks, one after another.

"Good evening, Touko," Shuichi said, reaching up to adjust his hat and pull it higher up on his head, so it wouldn't interfere. "Um, are you okay?"

Even by her own standards, this behavior was strange. She took the book underneath Shuichi's arm without even a word. Not even to ask if he enjoyed it. She always nervously did that after he returned a book to her library.

"N-Not particularly. Thanks for coming so quickly." Touko glowered at him, pressing her fingers together in one of her forty or so nervous tics. "I know dealing with your little harem must take a lot of your time, s-so I'll try to make it fast."

Shuichi shook his head. By this point, he'd realized that she physically couldn't help it. Or rather, mentally. While he himself was no doctor, Mikan, in her brief stay in the range of Touko's scornful voice, easily concluded that she did this out of some kind of nervous disorder. So it wasn't really totally her fault when she said hurtful things. "Of course. You said it was serious."

"I said it might be serious. Uh, what's th-that?"

He held up a stylish black fountain pen to the flickering oil lamplight in the library. "Makoto won this from the casino, and he seemed to think you'd like it. Maybe he just thought of you because of its name. The Novelist's Fountain Pen."

"M-Makoto? I thought he hated me forever."

"He said the same thing about you," Shuichi shook his head. "I think it was all just a misunderstanding. Here, I'll just put it over here on the desk."

"I won't forgive either of you..."

"What do you mean?"

 _"I won't forgive either of you for being so nice to me!"_ Touko declared, pointing an accusing finger in Shuichi's face. Her glasses fell askance, nearly sliding right off her face and onto the cold floor. In fact, everything in Touko's lab was bone-chilly. She kept her air conditioner running overtime at all hours. Even at night when the tropical heat subsided.

He just did his best to smile through it. Compared to Tenko’s pearls of wisdom, this was nothing. "So. What did you want to talk about?"

"T-There's something you absolutely have to see. First, though, I've got to explain. Or, rather... I'll burden you with my backstory. Like a truly w-w-worthless side-character should."

Shuichi knew better than to dispute Touko's self-denigration. Like with Mikan or Chihiro, just saying 'no, you're great' was largely ineffective. It could even make them feel more cornered or pressured. Shuichi could definitely relate to being killed with kindness. From all the people who piled such expectations on his narrow shoulders... "If you want to get something off your chest, I'm all ears. That's a big part of detective work, you know. Listening to people."

"Yeah? We'll see. It might just be a big waste of your time, but hey. You asked for it. Okay, so. E-Even though I am prolific in a certain genre, I don't have much r-r-real experience in romance. I know that's hard to believe."

"I'm the same way," Shuichi admitted, blushing. "I get nervous around girls and stuff, usually. Although that's gotten better since coming to the island."

"Oh, I get it. Y-You're saying that you don't see me as a woman, so you're okay to talk with me without being nervous?!"

Shuichi used to panic when she got like that. Now he just shook his head. "No. I mean, I'm comfortable around you because I consider you a friend, Touko."

"Nnngh. Don't give me that. I'm just a charity case you were given by Astro-Boy and the bimbo. Same with Makoto. It's all so I won't hold back the group, wh-when it comes time for the progress gate meeting tomorrow!"

That reminded Shuichi. After her story, and he checked out whatever she wanted to show him, he needed to find a way to invite Touko to the festival tomorrow. Without either sounding like he wanted to go out with her, or having it be flatly rejected. Having both happen would be the critical failure result on the table.

"Anyway. I said 'not much', but I didn't say 'none'. Even I've been on a date, you know! Try not to look so shocked, damn your eyes."

"How did it go?" Shuichi asked. She glowered at him, chewing her own lower lip. "Okay, yeah, I guess that's obvious. What happened, though? If I can ask."

"Sure, it's i-important. So. In junior high, out of the blue. A g-guy I had a crush on asked me out. Like, note in the locker, confession under the cherry tree out back of the school. The whole nine yards. He asked me to plan our date. I stayed up for three days trying to plan out, like, the most ultra-perfect date of a-all time. I decided to go t-traditional. You know what I mean, right? The most traditional of first date choices?"

Shuichi was not the Love Guru. Hiro gave out better love advice than Shuichi, and certainly had more experience. Any number was larger than zero, after all.

"Movies! We went out to the movies, you clod."

She stayed up for three days, and her plan at the end was 'go to the movies'? Then again, maybe the former caused the latter directly. Shuichi had, actually, been up for longer than that on occasion. For his Uncle's detective agency. During and after, he felt like he was dead. Or wanted to be dead. "I wonder. Which movies?"

"T-That's not important! What is important is that h-he hated the fuck out of it all. Like, he disappeared partway through the first one, and that was it."

Shuichi shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that, Touko. That sucks."

The novelist stared at the floor, despondent. "I found out later he only did it on a dare."

"What?! He only asked you out because..." Shuichi covered his hand with his mouth. "That's a horrible thing to do to a girl."

"Well. I'm a horrible person, and a horrible girl. So it probably all evens out," Touko replied, bitter. "Dammit. You made me dig up all that again, you beta male. No matter how much I try to get away from the past. All those feelings I had come flooding back, no matter how many years pass."

"What happened to you was really lame, Touko," Shuichi said, looking her in the eye for a moment. Neither one of them could hold eye contact very long, but he managed enough to try to convey his sincerity. Tenko was helping him develop better eye contact habits. Even nagging was a form of helping, after all.

"... Thanks. Now my emotional scars are all healed, oh s-stealth p-protagonist. So, uh. To the point of this all. I found something.... extra in my Lab, like, just a little while ago."

What did that have to do with this?

"A hidden part of your lab?"

"Y-Yeah. A secret passageway."

Even weeks in, the Ultimates were still uncovering new information about the labs. "Can I see?"

"You need to see.” Touko confirmed, standing up from her chair. "B-Because I can't explore it by myself, and I can't trust anybody else on this fucking island. Not even Makoto would understand. M-Master wouldn’t give me the time of day. But... if it's you, maybe. You'd better understand, you fuck."

She led him over to a corner of the library, tucked away from sight. The building had a few back rooms. This one had a big table and chairs. It would have made a nice secretive meeting area. Or just a place for somebody to read in private. That fit perfectly with what Shuichi knew of Touko's personality.Further building his theory that the labs were designed not just for their talents, but to reflect their inner character too.

If that was true, then the nature of this hidden area could be important information. That was why Touko, above her usual reclusive nature, didn't want anybody else to know about this.

She leaned her weight against a certain part of the wall, which gave way. Dust was unsettled, cascading as it fell, shimmering visibly around the secret door. The slab of well-crafted stone slide aside, revealing a rough-hewn rock passageway going down.

Touko herself was in a corner of the room, curled up into a ball.

"Touko? What's wrong? Did you get some dust in your eyes-"

"I can't. I can't look in there. Nnnngh. I can't... Shuichi. You have to look in there. T-t-tell me what's in there. You have to be the one..."

That was when Shuichi looked back towards the passage, which had been in total darkness. It was now illuminated by the oil lamps burning throughout the library. The flickering light that spilled in revealed that the walls of the downward-sloping passage were absolutely covered.

In blood.

It wasn't a single coating like paint. The sickening, all too familiar shade of pink was in massive gooey splotches and splatter patterns. Most of it was caked and dried right into the stone, but some even looked fresh. Whatever else could be said about this strange and macabre display, Usami and Exisals didn’t skimp on production values. Shuichi pulled out his Hope Pad, and flicked the brightness to maximum. With it leading the way like a magical torch, he stepped forward. "Come on, Touko. I've got light, we can go together and look inside."

"If I needed a fucking _light_ , I wouldn’t have sent for y-you, moron! T-That’s not the issue! I, uh. Don't handle blood well. Like. At all. Like. At. All."

"Ah. I understand.” Shuichi nodded. “I'll check it out, and be right back with any findings."

"Yeah. Uh, thanks. You can see why I got you. S-Sorry I'm so weak..."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I'm not any stronger than you are for being able to deal with this. It's just, for my work. I didn’t have any choice but to accept the horrors of this world as they come."

Most people weren't cool with blood and bodies. Shuichi himself was hardly an iron-willed badass. He’d just been forced to develop some tolerance for it. So while this motif, like Hiyoko's Lab's interior walls, freaked him out, it wouldn't stop him from stepping forward. If anything, now he had to know. He had to know why Usami thought this was a sensible design choice.

He didn't _want_ to know. In fact, something in the back of his mind told him that the answer was only going to lead to pain and suffering. As uncovering the truth often did.

However, the moment he laid eyes on this thing, it was clear. He _had_ to know.

He walked down the gentle slope of the passageway like it was a ramp, grateful that the blood wasn't underfoot too. He cast his Hope Pad around, shining the screen's brilliance around, and taking in the details. The ceiling was barren, and jagged. Like it was a cave formation rather than an actual room.

Shuichi descended until he reached a rusted iron hatch, which looked sturdy but was already unlocked. It swung open for him, with some effort, revealing a room. It was already lit by flickering candles in every part of it. Even though Touko claimed she was never down here, and couldn't be due to all the nastiness in the hallway. Either she told a transparent, easily-discovered lie, or this was the work of somebody else. Shuichi tensed up and scanned the area. Somehow, he expected to find somebody standing right there.

In a sense, he did see somebody. Several somebodies.

Which were all hung up on wooden crosses throughout the room. The bodies were crucified pinned to the wood, with scissors.

So much blood.

He cut off his own scream, biting down so hard that he nearly drew blood. His tongue hurt. After all, upon closer inspection, it was obvious that these bodies were, in fact, wax dummies. They lacked detail and paint in many places. That only added to the horrifying creep factor of the room, the rest of which Shuichi then examined in astonishment.

The walls of this stereotypical creepy basement were absolutely papered with newspaper clippings. Shuichi knew what this all meant before he read a single one of the countless headlines or saw any of the pictures. He knew, because he was the so-called Ultimate Detective, and he lived and worked in Japan.

So it was impossible for him not to recognize the signature style of one of the most infamous serial killers in Japanese history.

Genocider Syo.

There were other details about the room, which Shuichi dutifully recorded in his notebook. He took in every single thing about it. Beds and chairs, A single, swinging overhead lamp that offered sporadic light. The shrines built every so often with piles of photographs of men. Obviously, the victims. Genocider Syo was a serial killer the police never even got close to catching. Whose MO was to target generally attractive young men, and crucify them with pairs of specially-made stainless-steel scissors.

Scissors of a type perfectly replicated by the ones sticking into the dummies all over.

The killer's catchphrase, often written in blood at crime scenes, was there too, splashed across the newspaper clippings proudly.

_**“BLOODLUST”** _

Shuichi took enough time that he heard, faintly, from back up the passage, _"Shuichi? A-A-Are you okay?"_

The honest answer was 'no'. He replied, "Yeah. I'm coming back up now!"

Once he had everything down, he returned back up the passageway, emerged, and slid the secret door back into place. Touko could finally come out of hiding. She looked at him with anxious eyes, searching for a reaction to whatever he'd seen.

Just as Shuichi was now intently scanning her for even the smallest details. A hint that she knew, or suspected. The way she twitched and stuttered. Avoidance of eye contact. Her speech patterns. In fact, every thing that she'd said since he entered her lab was now burned into his memory. Every bit of it was critical to know.

On the way up, he'd also made a critical decision. A decision whose full impact he had no way to know, but also a way to hedge his bets. Touko, naturally, asked him, "W-What did you find down there? Come on, tell me!"

Shuichi could have told her. His growing friendship and regard for her, and his sense of ethics, pulled at him to do so. However, his sense as a detective, even a defective fake-Ultimate like him, was saying something different. Something Angie once told him about the truth being malleable came to mind.

Not to mention that it might hurt Touko a lot to know what was down there, what sick joke Usami had decided to spring on everyone.

If Usami was the one who even set it up.

And, of course, that was all assuming that Touko Fukawa was not, in fact, actually a serial killer. Somehow, he doubted that she’d show him the way to her actual murder-lair without being right there to, uh. Finish the job, and ensure he never told anyone about it. Letting him go in alone, look around, take plentiful notes, then just walk back out made no sense, if Touko was actually a murderous fiend.

Shuichi said, "Nothing."

"N-N-Nothing?! Don't screw with me, boy!"

Shuichi shrugged helplessly. Greater good, greater good. "I mean, there was a hallway at the end of the passage. However, it was totally barren when I entered. Just more of that weird fake blood."

" _Barren?_ Th-th-there was legitimately nothing?!"

He nodded. "Just bare rock walls. Like it had been carved out by the Exisals, and then just left there." Shuichi shook his head. "I have no clue what this means, but Hiyoko had a similarly... interesting, and creepy, sense of decor in her Ultimate Lab." He sighed. "Usami knows something we don't. A lot of things."

Touko shook her head. "Nnngh. Shuichi, this is my own lab. I can't even explore part of it. And it's all creepy like that... Y-You must have some idea why. You’re an honest guy, aren’t you? N-Not like all those others. Not like all the boys who’d always lie."

“I can understand how distressing this must be for you, believe me. I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” If this was some kind of test for him, then Shuichi would give her no results at all. "Sorry. I don't want to speculate, but at least there wasn't something dangerous down there."

"Yeah. I'm.... honestly? I'm glad." Touko sighed, leaning into a chair like she was a million years old, or totally drained of her life force. "T-Thanks, Shuichi. I guess. Thanks for indulging my paranoia."

"If it put some of your worries to rest, then please. Don't worry about it."

Shuichi had a lot to think about, the moment he was out the door. It only occurred to him that he'd failed to invite Touko to the Ultimate Festival, his original goal, a few minutes later.

He didn't go back. He went straight to his cabin, shut the door. He sat down in front of his notes, everything he’d written down. It all resembled a bunch of mad scrawling sometimes. However, if anyone could make sense of it, and piece it all together…

He sat down at his desk and started to write a note.

_“If something happens to me, and I disappear, or am found dead, please open the enclosed documents immediately. These records constitute all of the information I was able to gather for my investigation. More than just evidence and theories, these writings constitute my wish. Which I will entrust to you going forward. In the event that I cannot carry on my work, then you must, for everyone’s sake. I’m sorry to burden you with this. I’m sorry that even though they called me the Ultimate Detective, that I wasn’t able to find the truth. I think, however, that even though you can’t remember your talent, that you will have a much better chance to uncover everything...”_

He did nothing else that night but work on the note. Get it just the way he wanted it. Before sealing up everything in the envelope, and finally drifting off to sleep.

Tomorrow would be a new day. Hopefully, a thrilling day. The election first. Then once they’d gotten that out of the way, the Ultimate Festival. As Sonia had said, it was the real start of their communal life together. The beginning of their new mini-society, on Gopher Island.

Kaede, Kaito, Maki, Angie, Tenko, Mikan, Chihiro. All of them in yukata, maybe. Or maybe not.

Maybe he would get to see, though.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Hopefully, his fears were just wrong this time. He’d been wrong plenty in the past, which was one of the reasons he mocked the very idea that he was the Ultimate Detective. He had no evidence, no ground for his suspicions.

Just in case he wasn’t wrong, though, the others would be prepared. With this, everyone else would make it.

That seemingly-gloomy thought, that everyone would be okay even without him, finally let him drift off to sleep.


	20. 1-10. The Ultimate Election (Kyouko)

Friday morning. The day of the Ultimate Festival. Kyouko had two stops to make after waking up, before breakfast. One was in her own class, and thus much closer.

She knocked on the door to Makoto’s cabin. Shockingly, Makoto emerged. “Good morning, Kyouko,” He yawned at her.

“Sorry, Makoto. I thought Sayaka would be you today.”

Bewildered for a moment, and then recovering quickly, rubbing his eyes. “Huh? Oh, wow. Guess that’s one point for us. Hey, that means you wanna talk with her, right?”

“Correct.”

His expression brightened cutely. “Mind if I tag along?”

“I can’t stop you. It’s not related to the investigation, though. Personal matters.”

Sharp on the uptake, sometimes. Thankfully. “Ah, I get it. I’ll just catch like, another… two hours of sleep. Whoa. Are you gonna go to the festival today?” Hopeful.

“I’ll be around,” Kyouko replied. “If everyone’s going, it could be a good chance to continue my investigation.”

“Is that all you’re planning to do?” Confusion and disappointment. “Investigation?”

“Makoto, are you inviting me to the festival with you?”

Blushing. “Ah, I didn’t really, uh… Hey! You can’t get me with that one again, Kyouko. You’re at least going to have to come up with a new attack.” He was learning. Bit by bit.

“If you’re going with Sayaka already, there’s no point having me along.”

A remark that he found disagreeable, for some reason. “T-That’s not true! If we’re really gonna be friends, then I’d love to spend time with you. Especially at the festival. It would be super cool for you to come with. I’m sure Sayaka feels the same way.”

“Really.”

“Ask her when you talk.” Well, it wouldn’t cost Kyouko anything to try. “Like I keep saying, you’ve got her all wrong. But we’ve gone over that before. What are you gonna talk to Sayaka about?”

“I messed something up. I want to correct my error now, before it’s too late. See you at the statue, Makoto.”

“Ah, yeah. Take care. Don’t kill each other, please.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Makoto went back to bed. Kyouko knocked on Sayaka’s cabin, next door.

Eventually, the door cracked open, and Sayaka peeked out.

“... Kyouko?” She blocked the doorway with a broad, friendly smile on her face to mask confusion, and concern. Or the fact that she might have been armed at that moment with something. “What’s up?”

“What caused you to have a change of heart about Makoto?”

“You enjoy doing this to me.” Surprise quickly melted back into her mask. Her ability to absorb all of her own feelings into that public-facing smile was impressive and concerning. “That’s fine. I told you. I realized the error of my ways, so I decided to make a change.”

“That’s all it took? Usually, realizing you’re wrong just causes a person to bunker up, get defensive, and double down. It’s rare to see a true turnabout.”

Sayaka played with a lock of her stupidly flawless hair. “Well, the whole traitors thing made me realize that doing it all on my own was a bad idea. Got to trust somebody. Probably a lot of somebodies, to make it through this. Makoto’s a good person who wouldn’t betray anyone. Oh, and don’t tell anyone. But I have a super secret crush on him, too. So that helped me turn it around.”

“If you’re remorseful, why aren’t you chastened? Your attitude has yet to change.”

“Ah. That’s just an idol’s tradition, Kyouko. Smile in the sun, smile in the rain. Smile at despair, in the name of hope. Just like you, I don’t have to show what I’m really thinking. Which still doesn’t mean, like, I’m always scheming to destroy you, like you think I am?”

“The guilt trip would be far more effective if you weren’t holding a weapon behind your back.”

“Don’t be silly.” Sayaka blushed. She turned to the side and stashed the item somewhere out of sight. “Better?”

“Better.”

Baby steps.

“So, how can I help you today?~” Sayaka asked. “Ooh, do you want help putting on a yukata?”

“I want to apologize.”

Now that was a look of astonishment she couldn’t play off. “What?”

“While we’re in this situation, healthy skepticism is critical. I told Makoto that meant that I would neither believe, nor disbelieve, anyone. That hasn’t been true for you.”

“You hate me a lot, don’t you?”

“I thought you were a dangerous element, and unstable. I don’t think much of you on a personal level.”

“This started out so promisingly,” Sayaka said ruefully.

“But you also need some perspective. You didn’t hurt anybody. You felt the pressure, and reacted with a bad idea. Then, you realized you were being stupid, and bailed out. Now you’re starting over. You don’t have to feel this constant guilt.”

Sayaka considering whether to deny it, but she knew there was no point while they were alone. “That’s actually sweet of you, Kyouko? Especially by your standards. All due respect, but you’re not the one who gets to decide how bad I feel. Neither do I.”

“I think I know what you mean. Only the person you’ve wronged can forgive, right? That’s how I know for sure that you need to let it go, move on, and forgive yourself.”

“You know for sure?”

“Makoto Naegi is not the sort of person to hold a grudge. He would forgive you, even if you were guilty of heinous crimes. That wouldn’t stop him from trying to stop you, but he doesn’t hold much hatred in his heart. That’s why his anger at Nagito Komaeda is so pronounced, so foolishly obvious. He can’t hide it, because he can’t handle it. Because hatred is foreign to him. He’s not like us. And he’s not like the sharks you had to deal with.”

Sayaka’s demeanor didn’t change. A frozen smile less convincing all the time. “You’re pulling a lot of assumptions out of thin air. Are you going to take my gimmick, too?”

“Not my style. I just had a feeling, that’s all.”

“Maybe I should call you the Ultimate Detective too. I mean, if we can have two Lucky Students, and two Byakuya Togamis. Why not two Shuichis?”

Then, Shuichi would have somebody to hate, too.

“That reminds me.” The second errand today. Kyouko had to get to it before the day really started. “Take care, Sayaka.”

“You too, Kyouko. Thanks.”

That just left her second stop, over at Class 53’s hotel. However, by the time Kyouko reached Shuichi’s cabin, it was too late. Just as she reached out with a black-gloved hand to knock on the door, she heard a faint voice beyond it. _“You can feel it, right? I’m shaking too.”_

Kaede.

Kyouko flattened herself against the door, pressing an ear up against it. With the experience she had snooping, it was like she was sitting right in the room with them.

_“I’d be a total wreck if you weren’t here, Shuichi. I don’t even know if I could get up on stage otherwise.”_

_“That’s not true. You’re the one who gives others hope, Kaede. I’ve been a burden on you since day one.”_

_“No more of that. In fact, no more ‘people call me the Ultimate Detective’ either. You are the Ultimate Detective, Shuichi.”_

_“You know why they call me that, right? I mentioned it before. I just got lucky with that one case, that’s all. That’s what led to me being scouted by Hope’s Peak.”_

_“Solving a murder case while you’re still in middle school. How is that not a big deal?”_

_“Truth be told, I wonder if it was the right move.”_

_“Hm? What do you mean? Attending HPA? Well, in hindsight...”_

_“No, I mean with the case. I was there when we caught him. I can still see the look on the guy’s face. I still see it when I sleep. He hated me more than anything else in the world. Later, I learned the culprit did it to get revenge for his family. The victim was abusive, and drove the culprit’s relative to suicide.”_

_“Oh, Shuichi…”_

_“People told me that the culprit was right. That the victim deserved it. I still led the police right to him. Of course he hated me.”_

Kyouko pulled out his note. Her purple eyes scanned to the part about Touko Fukawa. The ominous discovery, Shuichi’s speculation. Finally, the lie he told, just in case it was serious. In fact, that was obviously the part that prompted him to send the letter.

It was also why Kyouko’s first idea had been to get here ahead of anyone else, and throw the note back in Shuichi’s face.

_“It’s not like you took sides, though. You just uncovered the truth. That’s what a detective does, right?”_

_“Yeah. It is. That’s the point though. It’s my fault. Just like it will be with any other case I’ll run across. Ever since then… I’ll be honest. I’m scared of the truth. I’ll never forget that hatred I saw. The way his eyes… Well. Um. That’s why I have trouble looking people in the eyes.”_

Hence, the hat.

_“Really, I didn’t even want to be a detective. Kyouko is everything a detective should be. Like she stepped out of a mystery novel. Attitude, skills, confidence. If anything, I should just give the title over to her.”_

_“You can’t do that. I mean, nothing against Kyouko. But the fact that you don’t want to reveal the truth for its own sake might be proof that you really are an Ultimate Detective.”_

_“Oh really? How’s that?”_

_“You look past just the ‘cold, hard facts’. You don’t just think about what the law says. Instead, you try to avoid hurting people. You want to protect others. Which is like, the point of the law. It’s why we have laws. It means you’ll rise above what, like. People think of as a detective. And become, I dunno. Great. I mean, you’re already pretty dang great.”_

_“Heh… I guess, if you say so.”_

_“You just reminded me why I really do wanna be a leader. So I can keep our friends together, and protect them. Ah. If only I had a real piano, I’d be able to express myself to yo uso much better. Usami, you’d better uncover my lab next, or I’m going to totally go into withdrawals! … You sure I can’t talk you into accepting that offer, too?”_

_“It’s going to take more than just any one thing for me to get back on the horse. That’s how weak I am. I can’t just step into the light in one go. Sorry.”_

_“Shuichi.”_

_“But. If you believe in me, then I have to try. If Kaito believes in me, and Angie, and Chihiro, Mikan… even Tenko. If everyone’s saying that kinda stuff, who am I to argue? I can’t just ‘feel better’ like that. But I can, maybe, try to look people in the eye more? Call that step one.”_

_“You’ve already taken a bunch of steps, but I agree in principle. Pinkie swear?”_

_“Sure. Kaede, you can do this. For whatever it’s worth, you’ve got my vote. Angie’s an important friend, but… um. You’re more...”_

_“A more important friend, hmnn?~”_

_“M-More reasonable.”_  
  
_“Oh...”_

Kyouko pushed off from the door, pocketed the note again, and took her leave to make her own breakfast, per usual.

Afterwards, the Ultimates were directed to muster at Central Island via the PA. Kyouko arrived fashionably late. She was among the last of the stragglers to join the group around 0930 hours. Unlike many of her fellow students, Kyouko was in her standard attire. Badass purple coat and skirt, instead of more traditional clothing.

Usami appeared before the entire group. Since it had been a while, she gave a speech at some length about hope and friendship, and how proud she was of everyone. Afterwards, she waved her magic wand, and the floor in front of the Gopher Statue slid down. This revealed they were a set of stone-carved steps, leading towards into the darkness. With torches lighting the way every so often, Kyouko could see down the passage to a distant set of doors at the end. She estimated the passage sloped for at least fifty meters down before arriving at the doors.

As Usami explained, this was planned to be the emergency shelter, in case the Hunt found them again. But she found a different, positive purpose for it.

The other Ultimates weren’t sure about going so deep underground. They followed when Kyouko and Rantaro stepped forward to investigate, though. Not wanting to let them go alone. Usami was offended by the idea that this was creepy or ominous. Hiyoko approved of the passage, and complimented the style on display.

None of the Ultimates, including Sakura and Gonta, could move the doors at the end. Usami forced them open with her magic. Magic doesn’t exist and is impossible. Yet it was no more absurd than the other dozen violations of reality. The chance that that they were all in some kind of computer simulation or virtual reality experiment continued to grow. If that was the case, then nothing was, in fact, ‘impossible’.

Except for their escape from this island.

It also called into question all of the information that they learned about the outside world and its situation, of course. Pondering on that could be done at any time. Everyone else preferred to focus on the impending election. Among the Ultimates, the hallway did build a lot of suspense.

Usami had built a large chamber underground. Far larger than what would be required for a meeting hall. The ceiling was high overhead, leaving dozens of meters of open air. On the ground level, the room was arranged like a lecture hall. Rows of seats and desks stair stepping downwards towards the central stage. Complete with multiple podiums. Usami directed everybody to have a seat, and the Ultimates sorted out into their usual groups.

Save for certain loners, such as Kyouko. She also moved around during the course of the Ultimate Election, to observe different groups.

The first decision for the group was the Captain. The head of this newly-formed micronation. Usami relied on Korekiyo to explain the mechanics. Despite claiming to be a Professor herself. Kiyo’s explanation was important for understanding how things would work on the island from that day forward.

Following the example of most western democracies, the Captain was the Executive. Tasked with enforcing the Council’s decisions, made by the three Class Representatives, their mini-diet. “A government with no power to enforce its decisions is truly meaningless. Kukuku.” Which meant the Captain would in turn give direction to the Security Force.

Shuichi was the first choice to head up Security. He declined. As such, Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, was placed in charge. She had no objections. Everything was worked out in advance. All told, the members of Security were Mukuro, Sakura, Ishimaru, Nekomaru, Peko, Mahiru, Gonta, Tenko, and Shuichi. Each one of them swore to follow the directions of whoever was elected as Captain. Even Tenko. Even if it was a male. They all received pink badges.

Because when you told Usami to make something in red, that was what you got. In addition, each one received an upgraded Hope Pad that had call and message functions, as would the four elected leaders. Tenko threatened to block all males if she received even one dick pic. Kokichi reminded her that group punishment was widely held to be unethical.

The unrivaled combat and investigation abilities of these Ultimates would be enough to make any potential attacker think twice.

This development made the Captain more important than expected. The actual race for it was still one-sided. Only one other candidate stepped up to even bother debating Kaito. Kokichi. The two came forward and stood at their podiums. Which then began to glow and float. Kaito and Kokichi were both okay with this, because it was cool.

Their words were carried on monitors and all the Hope Pads. Which received a new voting app.

Usami explained, “Everyone! Please make sure to vote by the time the debate finishes, because that’s when you’re locked in. If you are moved by the arguments one way or another, you can move your vote accordingly! It’s okay to praise me more and more, if you’re impressed by your Professor’s hard work. The total numbers won’t be shown until after it’s over. Will you make the hopefully right choice, or the wrong one?~”

 **First Debate: The Captain**  
_**“Who’s the the liar here?”** _

**Vote for Kokichi!**

**Vote for Kaito!**

“I would make a way **better leader** than stupid-head Kaito.”

“I’ll play your game, Kokichi. How are you _any_ kind of leader?”

 

“Did you forget my **Ultimate talent** already, darling?~”

“Just because you’re _called_ the Ultimate Supreme Leader don’t _mean_ anything!”

 

“Like how you yell about being **Luminary of the Stars**?”

“Even crying children know to adore the Ultimate Astronaut! It’s a real title!”

 

“Well then. What the heck does it **_mean_**?”

“It _means_ that I’m gonna blaze a trail for everybody to get to space one day!”

 

“You call me **childish** all the time, but that’s the best you can do?”

“I call you a lotta names, Kokichi. And you earn every one!”

 

“Honestly. Is that any way to treat the hero who saved you all from **Monokuma**?”

“Monokuma?! What the heck does he have to do with anything now?”

 

“Don’t you remember? When I stole the **Magical Stick** , and stopped the killing game.”

“You tried to use the Stick, but that backfired because you’re a moron!”

 

“That wasn’t the finale, though. I also got the Stick to Usami in **the end**.”

“What?! I’ve never heard that part. I think you’re makin’ it up!”

 

“Usami can totally **confirm**. I stopped Monokuma from getting it, so she did.”

“The storm was so bad, nobody could see nothing that night! Not even her!”

 

“Well, I have a **witness** who can tell you all what happened.”

“Somebody _saw_ you save the Magic Stuck, huh? Who? Out with it!”

 

“.... Sorry, everyone. That was just a **lie**. You caught me, darling. You’re so smart.”

“Goddamnit! You _are_ just screwin’ around! A big fuckin’ liar shouldn’t be our Captain.”

 

“Really? As it happens, I hate liars too. Which is why I can’t forgive **you**.”

“Dumbass! When have I ever lied about anything?!”

 

“‘The **dying leader** will take the survivors to the new world.’”

“What? That message we… Wait! Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!”

 

“Sure am. I wouldn’t vote for somebody who’s got, like, **space cancer** , guys.”

“That’s it. You aren’t taking any of this seriously! Clench those teeth!”

 

“Lighten up, sweetie. I mean, there’s no way you’d make it past **screening** , riiight?~”

“H-Hey, just because I took some shortcuts, that doesn’t prove anything!”

 

“I guess not. Hey, if you aren’t **‘dying’** , though, can you really be the ‘leader’?”

“That’s titanically stupid, Kokichi. Are _you_ gonna die if you get elected?”

 

“Given how many enemies my secret organization has made, I _may_ get **assassinated**.”

“Strongest argument yet to vote for this little troll, everyone.”

 

“Ouch. Fine, I **concede**. I’m getting bored of this now, anyway.”

“Wait, what?! Seriously, you give? Just like that?!”

 

“Not gonna win anyhow. This was **fun,** though. Thanks for being my opponent! _Nishihi!”_

“Usami, I’m gonna kill him!”

“Mister Momota! Violence is never the answer!”

Kokichi examined his nails in sheer terror. “Sheesh, Kaito darling. So violent. This is why we had to form a Security Force.” He paused. ”Although they'll be taking orders from you. Could be trouble. I mean, aside from the fact that you’re just not all that smart.”

“Get over here, you son of a bitch!”

“Gentlemen, please!”

Kaito was not Mondo. Kokichi evaded each attack, taunting all the while. Usami panicked, tried to break it up, and finally gave up. She announced the results immediately, by projecting them onto the smooth stone ceiling of the chamber, high overhead.

“Ahem. Well, if this is the will of the Ultimates, then it must be done. You have selected Kaito Momota, the Ultimate Astronaut, to lead our mission!”

Somebody deciding to be a wise-ass and ask ‘what mission’ led to another rant from Usami about hope, the Hope Fragments, and Hope’s Peak Academy.

There was a lot of hope involved in their hopeful mission.

So that took a while.

Nobody expected anything else, and it wasn’t a very hard fight. Kaito still made sure to celebrate like a king, putting his arms around Shuichi and Maki’s shoulders. Shuichi endured, Maki glared daggers at him, and Tenko made sure he gave them some personal space.

Via judo flip.

After which, she did apologize, and ask him not to send her to jail. Before remembering the island didn’t have one of those. And that she was one of the police.

“Come see the violence inherent in the system!” Kokichi cackled.

It was time for Kyouko’s own class 1 to decide.

As before, there were only two candidates worth hearing from. Kyouko put her digital token on Ishimaru’s face before a single word was spoken.

 **Second Debate: Class 1 Representative**  
_**“Or**_ _ **der versus Chaos!”** _

**Vote for Junko!**

**Vote for Ishimaru!**

“Hey, at least I wore something over it today. I’ll **beat you** without bikini tactics.”

“Oh? An honest challenge!? Very well! This is a welcome change, Junko!”

 

“Hey, you could have put on a **show** too, if you wanted. You got one hell of a body, boy.”

“I w-would n-never consider stooping to such indecent measures!”

 

“Notice how he doesn’t **deny it,** folks. I have insider information. Ripped as fuck. Whew.”

“W-W-What does any of this have to do with the election, Junko?!”

 

“Come on, loosen up a little bit. We’re just **friends** messing around, right?”

“This election is serious business! Today, there are no friends!”

 

“ _Sigh._ This right here. This is why order is so **boring**.”

“Boring?! What do you mean? Order is necessary in any society!”

 

“I mean that you’re so **predictable** it’s causing me physical pain. Ouch.”

“The best path forward usually _is_ predictable. What of it?! It’s still the best!”

 

“Life is so much more than just a game of making the _best_ moves. This isn’t **chess** , bro.”

“Oh, a chess metaphor. _Now_ everyone will think you’re smart!”

 

“Are you saying that because I’m a supermodel, I **can’t be smart** too?”

“I d-don’t mean that at all! I believe you can achieve _anything_ , with hard work!”

 

“Oh yeah? That’s a weird philosophy to have among **Ultimates**.”

“Just because we were born lucky doesn’t mean we can’t work hard to improve!”

 

“How exactly are you planning on doing that on a **tropical island**?”

“Maybe you forgot, Junko! The Ultimate Labs are here _for_ us to develop our talents.”

 

“Your next line will be **‘Put that in your pipe and smoke it!’**.”

“Put that in your pipe and smoke it! ... Wait, what?!”

 

“So boring, even when you win. **Boredom** ’s a killer, you know? It’s the soul that dies.”

“You keep talking about boredom, but what’s boring here? There’s so much to do!”

 

“For now. You’ve totally got a bunch of lame-ass **rules** you’d implement, right?”

“Well, I mean, of course I’d want rules in place! For everyone’s sake!”

 

“That’s always the justification. You just want to make **everything fun** illegal.”

“As long as your _fun_ doesn’t involve hurting yourself or others, then it’s fine!”

 

“That a fact? Then how about, say… **sexy fun**?~ Like if I wanted to go nude?”

“I d-d-d-don’t know why you’d bring that up in a school environment!”

 

“Your reaction says it all, Taka. Under an Ishimaru regime, **spring break** is over.”

“We’re not on some vacation out here, Junko!”

 

“That’s for the voters to decide. Maybe they value **freedom** more than you think.”

“Order doesn’t have to come at the cost of freedom! We can find a balance!”

 

“Not with a **rules-crazy** robot like you in charge. Pipe down, Keebs. Figure of speech.”

“I hardly think telling you girls to put a shirt on is _unreasonable_!”

 

“That, too, is for the **voters** to decide~ Choose wisely, everyone~”

“Nnngh! I can’t believe anybody would seriously vote for you!”

Miraculously, Kyouko’s token remained unmoved.

She found herself a seat near the Black Hats for this one. They were joined by Makoto and Sayaka, so she wound up near them. Purely by chance. This hodge-podge group formed the cheer section for Ishimaru. Led, of all people, by Chihiro. Yelling her little lungs out.

Angie had said a prayer to Atua for Ishimaru’s crushing victory. The others were more surprised to see Chihiro bow her head to match, followed by Mikan.

There was now no doubt at all. It was spreading.

Shuichi looked profoundly uncomfortable. More so than usual.

Those on the other side of the seating, Junko’s own fanclub, led of course by Mukuro and Tsumugi, cheered all the louder as they saw the result announced on the screen, and Usami flew upwards on tiny wings. “Ahem. Class 1 has elected Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, in a surprise upset! Congratulations are certainly in order. You have been entrusted with the hopes and dreams of your fellow students!”

‘Thanks,” Junko replied, flashing a peace sign for Mahiru’s digilient photography. “I am all about that hope shit.”

Taka made his way towards the seats slowly, shoulders slumped. As soon as he got back, Chihiro and Mondo went over to sit with him. Accompanied by, of all people, Tenko.

Kyouko went over towards Hajime’s cluster of girls, Nagito Komaeda, and Rantaro, who basically also counted, for the next round. Both Hajime and Nagito were set to cheer for Byakuya from the start, Hajime being specially emphatic. Ibuki drowned them out with her experienced vocal cords, though, shouting for Sonia. It was clear their class was heavily divided. Even friendships and alliances were fraying over this choice.

For reasons that could not yet be determined.

Kyouko also kept a sharp eye on Nagito Komaeda himself, but saw nothing outside of his usual behaviors. It would be nearly impossible to judge somebody so atypical merely by how he acted. She’d need to find other ways.

Before Sonia took her place on the podium opposite Twogami, she had her own announcement to make. One which shocked the audience. “I am terribly sorry, everyone. I cannot do this anymore. My only wish is to live alongside the Ultimates as equals. Not to rule over everybody! So, even though I led all of you on, please accept my sincerest apologies. I must give up. I ask instead that if you were going to support me, please… vote for Gundham Tanaka instead! He is a great and wise man. As you have heard from his many speeches. He will make an astute and compassionate leader.”

“I will?!” Gundham himself had not been anticipating that twist, that was clear. His reaction was panic. He objected with his usual cloud of actual nonsense. Covering up how red he was turning as he hid further and further within his purple scarf. “Uh, ah ha ha ha! I will! Of course! Now, you will all witness the next stage of my sinister plan… for global dominion!”

“That’s right!” Akane cheered. “Wow, when he speaks, I just feel, like, Gundham really gets it. Like, he means that we’re totally gonna fight back against the Ultimate Hunt, and return home one day.”

“Stop talking.” The skinny, worse-tempered Byakuya approached his double. “As for you. I cannot say our relationship has been a smooth one. I wish I knew what your true reason was for taking the Togami name, Imposter. Certainly, if you were hoping to gain anything, being caught up in this strange exile was probably not it. However, now that you have my name, know that I will expect nothing less from you than I would from myself.”

The larger man nodded sternly. “Of course, Imposter. I know well. I’ve known it since I was born. Since the battle first began. In the battle of life, a Togami can accept nothing less than absolute victory.”

Togami nodded in satisfaction, and reached out his hand. His double, or rather, Twogami, took it. “Good hunting, ‘me’.”

 **Third Debate: Class 2 Representative**  
_**“This is the Tanaka Empire!”** _

**Vote for Gundham!**

**Vote for Byakuya!**

“So, you were able to confront me after all. Very well. I will accept all of that foolish courage. Now, **en guarde** , Byakuya Togami! For you stand now against none other than the Supreme Overlord of Ice, Gundham Tanaka!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“ **Hell** is the proper term for what will happen now. I will unleash all of my strength upon you! Your existence will come to an ignoble end for such a distinguished mortal!“

“Can you stop that? At least for the length of this debate?”

 

“Fool! The **Sonia Nevermind** who put her faith in me did so due to my power! To ask me to shirk what has brought our sinister campaign so far? Merely to save your own skin? I thought you a better man than that, at least! Is this truly all that humanity can muster?“

“Tch. That _is_ worth comment, I suppose. I thought my opponent would be Sonia.”

 

“As you heard, she entrusted her hope to me! All the supporters who would pledge allegiance to her, have joined my dark coven instead! Surely, you feel the weight of all that power! My overflowing **spiritual energy**.“

“Whoever is shining those lights behind him, that's not funny!”

 

“What **plans** could you possibly forge for the future of this island? With that tiny, blinkered perspective of yours, Togami? If you cannot handle the merest thing outside of your experience, and call it 'impossible' or 'absurd' like a closed-minded human... How dare you seek to become supreme overlord!“

“My first and only plan is to keep everyone on the island safe.”

 

“How would you propose to achieve such a feat, with the entire world after our blood?! Surely even you can comprehend the **gravity** of our situation. It seems as though you and gravity share a strong bond! Ahahaha!“

“You pretend to have some 'grand perspective', but all you can really do is tell jokes.”

 

“Insolent cur. I should strike you down where you stand for your impertinence! You may be high-born, but that is only by human standards! I am a being that extends into **dimensions** above and below your very existence!“

“Oh, and of course. You talk so much, so loudly, that you hope to befuddle the masses.”

 

“To imply that my wisdom is merely some act demonstrates the most basic of dog-ignorance! No! It is an insult to noble dogs to compare their selfless loyalty to your obtuse selfishness! What proof is there that you **care** for the citizens of this isle one farthing?!“

“The very first day, both I and myself stepped in to organize the group.”

 

“ **Who are you** , you fiend?! Are you friend, or foe? Are you real, or illusory? Are you even human at all, or something... more? Or something less? There are two versions of you! Which is clone, and which has a soul?!“

“I will say it to everyone in the world, if I have to. I am the real Byakuya Togami.”

 

“Then you accuse your counterpart of being a most foul **doppelganger**? How would you demonstrate this? Did you divine it with the power of the Seven Sacred Stones, as I do to see the future?! Answer quickly, before I cast you off into the deep sea!“

“When we came here, I was convinced that man was an evil copy. I am no longer sure.”

 

“If you cannot even hold firm to your own **identity** and ideals, why should any human place their flicker-lives, already so tragically short and full of suffering, into your large, sweaty paws?“

“My classmates are the ones who helped me come to grips with my identity.”

 

“Tch. Whereas Gundham Tanaka needs **nobody** but himself!“

“Hm? What about Sonia Nevermind, then? Is she nothing?”

 

“I could never call her nothing! She is... important. Her existence deserves to **survive**.“

“ _Everyone_ deserves to survive. I will ensure that, at any cost.”

 

“I have **nothing** else to say to the likes of you, Togami.”

“My summation is very simple. He is crazy. I am sane. I will guide us. Vote for me. Now.”

Ibuki, and Touko Fukawa, an ultimate odd pair, rumbled over this assertive display. Kyouko couldn’t see anything odd about Touko. Aside from all the expected things, like her reclusive hostility. No matter how closely Kyouko looked. Just like the secrets of this island that Usami was keeping from them all, there was a good chance that no amount of simple observation was going to reveal the truth about her suspects.

Just as no amount of investigation was likely to reveal why the results screen showed Gundham claim a solid lead. Usami proclaimed, “Gundham Tanaka, the Ultimate Animal Breeder, has been chosen by Class 2-”

“What.” Twogami’s eyes were wide as he stared upwards. “What?! _How?! **Why?!**_ **”**

Kazuichi mumbled discontentedly, “Well, certainly wasn’t _my_ vote that swung it, I can tell you that much.”

“You have to admit,” Hiyoko said, wearing perhaps the biggest shit-eating grin of her entire life as she looked up at Twogami, “He is such an eloquent and intelligent speaker. Like, how could I not go for the guy?”

“He is the Supreme Overlord of Ice,” Sonia nodded proudly, leading the clapping and cheers for Gundham’s inauguration. Much to the man’s own blushing embarrassment, especially when Mahiru moved in for those photos.

“He spouts inane gibberish!” Twogami objected. “He makes no actual sense!”

“You’ve got to read between the lines, Byakuya,” Nagito said, shaking his head. “Gundham speaks with such belief. There’s no doubt he’s a true believer in the power of hope.”

“He openly claims to be an ‘evil overlord’!”

“Hope is necessary for survival, Byakuya. Way more than even our own physical safety. It’s something humanity needs to advance, even the finest of humanity among us now. Well, that’s my own stupid beliefs anyhow, so don’t pay me any mind.”

“A… because he…. Because he speaks with more conviction, is that really it?! Am I surrounded by complete morons?!”

Mikan was sobbing due to Byakuya’s lectures. Which prompted Angie, as she walked down for the upcoming, and final, debate, to gently scold the portly heir. “Now, now, Byakuya. Nobody likes a sore loser. At least you came closer than the other you. Atua says that means you’re… Well, eh. I’m sure the others won’t realize you’re actually the real Ultimate Imposter just from that much! Atua says you can keep this going for quite a while.”

“How… dare you!”

“Don’t let your blood pressure get too high, you gotta relax and take life as it comes~”

“Kaede!” Twogami bellowed towards the bewildered blonde pianist. “Destroy her! As my disciple, you must avenge me!”

“You’re already sounding more like Gundham,” Tsumugi observed, tapping her chin. “If you spoke with that kind of conviction before, it might have gone differently.”

“Nngh!”

Kyouko slid over towards where most of Class 53 had gathered, and was greeted by a cordial nod from Kiyo. “Thrilling spectacle, hm? As fellow observers of humanity, I can understand some of what you must be feeling. Kukuku.”

She saw Kiyo open the voting ap, and put his token on Kaede immediately.

In stark contrast to Himiko, who let out a grand sigh. “All this voting stuff seems like a pain…”

Tenko shook her head. “Ooh, you’ll be glad you came, Himiko! I promise! Only an idiot wouldn’t vote for our glorious leader Angie.” She glanced over towards Shuichi, who had pulled his hat down so far that his face could barely be seen. “Uh. Unless you’re Shuichi, who’s definitely not a degenerate, or an idiot! Hey, Shuichi! Did you hear me?! I praised you! Think about how much it took for me to find some kind words for such a pitiful, weak, male?”

She was doing her best, with all the tools she had available.

Kyouko went over besides Shuichi, but didn’t say anything to him. She just watched him, as he finally pulled his hat up, and watched the debate intently. Just as he’d said to Kaede, his token was over her icon, and there it remained.

 **Fourth Debate: Class 53 Representative**  
_**“Hopeful Fluffs Collide!”** _

**Vote for Angie!**

**Vote for Kaede!**

“ **Good luck** , Kaede! Even though we’re enemies today, I wish you all the best.”

“Thanks, Angie. I feel the same way. Let’s have some fun with this.”

 

“Ooh. Angie loves fun things. Like this election! **What** do you have in mind?~”

“Well, let’s talk about our plans for the future.”

 

“Good idea! Hmm... I **dunno, I dunno**!~”

“R-Really? You don’t know what your plans are?”

 

“As soon as **Atua** tells me what _his_ plans are, then _I_ can tell you _mine_.”

“Atua, huh? I guess there’s no getting around it.”

 

“That’s correct. **Atua** sees all, so getting around his sight is super impossible.”

“I have to say, Angie. Your religious faith is so strong. It’s just…”

 

“It’s juuust? You **don’t approve** of Angie’s faith, Kaede?”

“No. I think the way it gives you strength is admirable. But others may feel differently.”

 

“ _Hmmmm?_ Is there **something bad** about worshiping Atua? No way.”

“It’s not bad. You’re trying to be the leader of the whole class, though.”

 

“Who better to lead than **Atua’s priestess?** I can implement his wisdom directly!”

“What I mean is. How about the rest of us? Of other faiths? Or no faith?”

 

“I have absolute confidence that **everyone** will see the light. In time.”

“That’s as may be. But what if we don’t? Will you be an impartial leader for us too?”

 

“Of course, of course. Atua is a **patient** lover. Everyone deserves love and respect.”

“Patient, huh? You’re still convinced that you can convert everyone?”

 

“I got no need for **doubt** or uncertainty. You gotta toss all that stuff aside!”

“I can respect that. But aren’t there times where it’s important to have doubts?”

 

“Ehh? Is that gonna be _your_ **leadership style** , Kaede? Always filled with uncertainty?~”

“Not ‘always’. But I can admit when I’m worried. We don’t know everything, right?”

 

“Angie knows everything. Or at least, everything she needs to know. Because of **Atua**.”

“So you’ll always sleep soundly at night after you make a decision?”

 

“Of course. With **Atua** ’s guidance, you can let go and forget your worries forever.”

“Unlike you, I can’t claim to be infallible. I make mistakes all the time.”

 

“Interesting, Kaede. Are ya expecting Angie to **agree,** just to look reasonable?”

“No. I know that you’re always a hundred percent confident.”

 

“Well, I _might_ worry if things look bad. But I just _know_ they’ll **always** turn out fine.”

“I think success is earned. Not guaranteed. Even for Ultimates.”

 

“Guess that’s it, then. Everyone! Would you rather have somebody who’s **always right**?”

“Or somebody who admits she can’t always be right, but tries her hardest?”

 

“Nyahaha! **Whatever happens** , this was fun, Kaede. Thanks!”

“Yeah. Let’s both do our best for everyone’s sake, no matter what.”

 

“ **Atua** is going to do his best, too! Although he can do so much more, if I win~”

“If I win, then I’ll give free, uh, piano lessons? Usami, how’s my Lab coming?”

Ripples of laughter went through the grand meeting room. Usami sweated. “I really don’t want to discuss such matters, or divulge… oh, look! Literally anything else! Ahem. Now, the final results, for the Class 53 Representative…” The projection above flickered to life with the result. “Ah! By a difference of exactly one vote…”

“Congratulations, Kaede,” Shuichi said to himself, so softly that Kyouko nearly missed it.

“Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Pianist, has won!” Both opponents looked surprised by that particular result. The hopeful fluffs had been, in the whole week running up to the Ultimate Election, trying to make as many friends as possible. Spread a wide social net to get support. Both assumed Angie, with her group, was doing a better job.

Yet in the end, that was the result. It was backed up by the applause from most of the crew, showing the feelings of those who couldn’t vote directly. Mahiru was delighted to take some photos of Kaede, and then, all four of the new leaders of the island, gathered together. Standing as one. Then, with all of the members of Security, as well. Sporting pink armbands like they were raising money for The Cure or something. Only Mahiru was absent from the group photos.

When Rantaro offered to hold the camera, she declined. As usual, the only person who didn’t get captured in Mahiru’s photos was the freckled redhead herself.

So, there they were. The leaders. Captain Kaito Momota, and the Council. Junko Enoshima, Gundham Tanaka, and Kaede Akamatsu.

Good luck, Kaede.

Usami really did go out of her way for this celebration. Confetti from the ceiling, and a dancing quartet of her backup units spinning around on stage. Causing Hiyoko to join them. And trip several of the Usami’s with her preternatural balance and reflexes, ‘accidentally’. Until Mahiru dragged her off by the ear.

“We did it!” Kaito said, although he refrained from any back-slapping, having been humiliated once already and perhaps not feeling like having it happen again. Still, he beamed down at Kaede, and she grinned back up at him.

“Yeah. I mean, whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

“Totes,” Junko agreed, and with the Ultimate Soldier, and now the Head of Security, in her pocket, she felt no compunction about slapping Kaede on the back with a distinctly more angular, predatory grin. “Akamatsu Akamatsu yas queen!”

 **“NOW!”** Gundham proclaimed joyfully, as Sonia stood by his side, and his Four Dark Devas of Destruction snoozed away happily on his shoulders, **“LET US START A NEW REIGN OF TERROR!”**

“Watch out for cowboy snipers,” Tsumugi called down to them from the stands, jovial.

That concluded the first part of today’s festivities.

Usami was proud to announce the start of the Ultimate Festival. “Thank you for your patience, everyone! Now that we’ve worked this out, let’s spend the rest of today celebrating the start of something new! I don’t mind saying that the group has already passed my progress gate, too! Congratulations! The bonds you have formed will only grow stronger, as your rehabilitation progresses. However, I’ll save opening up the new areas, Fourth and Fifth Islands, for tomorrow! Tonight, just have fun, relax, and enjoy this time free of burdens and worries. You’ve all earned it!”

Kyouko didn’t know if relaxing was even in her DNA, much less fun.

If Shuichi could pull that hat up, though, and stand with Kaede, could she do any less for herself? She could try, too. At least to see what would happen. She found her way to Makoto and Sayaka in the crowd, who were both surprised and seemed genuinely happy to have her around.

Just another mystery to add to the pile.

With a salvo of unwise indoor fireworks from an Exisal in either corner of the room, nearly scorching some people, and deafening many, Usami set the important precedent for the Ultimate Festival. Bad decision making.

There would be drinking.

There would be gaming.

In the afternoon, there would even be a concert with the musically-inclined Ultimates. Which of course included Ibuki.

Much more was planned, and the events that unfolded would be unforgettable, for those who didn’t just get drunk and forget it all.

Makoto and Sayaka held hands. Kyouko wasn’t planning to join that. Until Sayaka rolled her eyes and pulled Kyouko’s gloved hand into her own. “Come on, just for today.” Sayaka really was a practiced liar, huh.

The Ultimates went back up the huge staircase together, emerging into the light of day united.


	21. 1-11. The Ultimate Festival I (Hajime)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to follow what all the cool kids are doing, and make a Discord server for the Voyage to celebrate the story's three-month anniversary! Feel free to join in, at https://discord.gg/UaEuFHG if you want to hang out with fellow Danganronpa nerds, discuss the story, I dunno. It's basically just a text chat thing for me, that's how I use it anyhow.

The sun was shining.

The birds were singing.

On days like this, people like Hajime deserved to enjoy them in peace with his friends.

He sure wasn’t going to get that. At least the day’s events would be memorable for all sorts of reasons.

After their voyage into darkness, and the return back to the surface, the tropical splendor of Gopher Island hit him full-force.

Day 13 of the Heart-Throbbing Voyage. Which was the latest lame thing Usami called it. Thirteen days of living in paradise would start to numb and immune anyone, especially a normal guy, to the wonders around him. The same way that living with Ultimates changed one’s perspective on what a normal person was. Until eating breakfast with a European princess, a deadly swordswoman, or the greatest chef in Japan was just Friday.

Hajime felt like he’d been reborn. The constant warmth that embraced him through the thin layers of his clothing. The distant white noise of crashing waves, and the call of seagulls or some more exotic ocean bird. The beautiful blue skies overhead, dotted only occasionally with peacefully white clouds. The calm. deep blue sea that went out in all directions, and separated them from the entire rest of the messed up world.

The effect on him was just a fraction of what this place meant to somebody like Sayaka, or Kirumi, Anyone who was used to a full, busy, hectic schedule. Anyone who had been crushed beneath the pressure of their busy daily lives. Hajime had seen the Ultimates try to cope with their new situation in any manner of ways. Like, for instance, the Ultimate Festival, which was now upon them in full force.

Most of the festivities wouldn’t start until well after lunch, but some people got a start on things early. While others were about to make a mistake they’d end up regretting, unless Hajime said something.

"Please don't tell me you're going back to the hotel."

The portly Ultimate Affluent Progeny stopped in his tracks when challenged. "Hm? What if I am, Hajime? Is there a problem?"

“You worked with all the other candidates to set it up. Byakuya," Hajime waved around towards the ribbons and streamers put haphazardly over the Gopher Statue. Clearly, some of the candidates had been working harder than others. "Now that it's time to party, you're done?"

"Don't be foolish," Byakuya snapped. "That was just a means to an end. I never had any interest in the Ultimate Festival itself. Why would I bother mingling with the masses? With you? Disgusting."

Hajime might have bought that line. If that was coming from the other Togami. Already halfway back to his cabin; probably planning a stimulating day-long date with the only important person in his life, himself. However, Twogami was different. Never having met the real Byakuya, Hajime couldn’t say which one was real.

Ibuki was right, though. There was no ‘real you’, only ‘you’. This was Byakuya to him, whether it was the truth or a lie. He knew he wasn’t the only one in Class 2 who felt the same way. Especially since by the vote total, he was far from the only one who voted for Byakuya.

He wasn’t alone. Nagito and Chiaki were with him, as usual. Both in yukata, which wasn’t usual, but was highly welcome and appreciated. A very lucky situation indeed in various ways.

While Chiaki was the one to stare at for her attempts to fit into a cute, light, breezy purple number, Nagito also had his own charm. The white puffy hair and pale skin gave him a delicate, doll-like appearance. Without his hoodie, it became more obvious how thin he was. Delicate was a word that appeared to his outer appearance, but certainly not his personality. Whereas Chiaki was softer, inside and out. Much wider and thicker. A sturdy base, handy since she tended to fall asleep.

In fact, Chiaki had been found standing straight up, dead asleep, often.

Nagito's sky-blue yukata was open more than Chiaki's, too. So there was that. Unlike the Ultimate Gamer's outfit, though, it wasn't out of sheer physical necessity. Compared to Hajime's normal white button-down, neck-tie, and slacks, those two cut quite a profile of festive cheer.

It was like life was good, or something.

So if even he could just chill out and enjoy things, there was no way he could let a friend skulk back and be miserable. He didn’t expect the other two to take the initiative, but they did. Nagito and Chiaki both stepped up to the plate.

"You're going?" The purple-haired girl asked softly, disappointed. She reached back on instinct to pull up her hood, before realizing there wasn't one. "Already?"

Chiaki was unfair in a lot of ways, especially dressed like that. Even the stoic, serious Byakuya was still a guy. Maybe that wasn't the reason, though. Hajime saw the large man talking to Chiaki in the lobby often. During his own frequent 'just happened to be passing through' visits every morning.

The heir gave a more considered answer to her. "There's no point in me hanging around."

"Is that true? I wonder."

"Byakuya, come on." Nagito shook his head, concern evident on his pretty face. "Try not to take it personally."

"Oh? You think that's what my problem is?" Byakuya turned to glare at Nagito, who put his hands up. "That I'm childish? That losing a stupid popularity contest affected me? That the great Byakuya Togami is such a foolish blowhard?"

"If it's childish to be mad when you lose, then I guess I am too," Chiaki admitted. "I mean, that's how I got so good at gaming in the first place. It's like the one thing I can really do at full power. So if somebody beats me..." She pouted, cheeks puffing up. “I can’t forgive them, or myself. Right, Nagito?”

Nagito rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Fitting, since his hair reminded Hajime of a sheep. "Fun fact, Celeste's casino isn't the only place I've got a lifetime ban from now."

Hajime sighed. "I keep telling you, Nagito. You don’t have to follow the commands of other Ultimates like you’re some servant, just because you’re on Kirumi’s trash detail. The hotel lobby is a public place.”

“The lobby is my domain. Until somebody can beat me. Fair and square this time,” Chiaki rejected his assertion, huffing in annoyance.

“You’ve got it all wrong, anyway,” Nagito shook his head. “I don’t act that way because I pick up trash. It’s because I am trash! At least, compared to all of you.”

Another weird thing happened that morning, because of their exchange. Hajime got to hear Byakuya laugh. That was rarer than gold. His laugh usually manifested as a baffled chuckle at something stupid. Which, to be fair, in Class 2 was not as rare as gold. More so than the genuine, soft laugh he let loose just then. Before he realized he was laughing, and cut it off in a dramatic cough, returning to a steely glare.

 _Too late for that, buddy._ Blood was in the water.

“Come with us, instead," Chiaki offered. “If you want.”

"Oh? You’ll take me along? Won’t I just be in the way, for you three?"

Chiaki looked down at the paved white cobblestones of the central park. Hajime was worried that was enough to beat her. But she rose up again after some time to process the situation, looking into Byakuya’s eyes. "Nope." She smiled, gently, like a whisper of an expression over her normally neutral face. "Not fair. Ordering me to go because making memories is important. But then not going yourself?"

Byakuya sighed, and pushed his glasses up from the side of the frames. "Very well. If you all insist so strongly, then I, Byakuya Togami, heir to the Togami Group, will permit you to accompany me for a time. You’d better keep me entertained. Now, Nagito and I, as mentioned, helped with the setup.” Even though Nagito would have never thought to run, he still took part of the burden. “So we can guide you two through the day’s special events-"

_Click._

"Mahiru. Don't you think a little warning might have been helpful? I don't want all of the photos that you take of the heir to the Togami Group to be frowning."

Mahiru shrugged from behind her camera. Luckily for everyone around, she’d also worked up the courage to get on a bright red yukata that nearly matched the shade of her hair. Looking very cute and, well. Feminine. Way different from the way she acted- "Then don't frown so much. I'm here to capture what people are actually feeling on this historic day. Think of it like a progress photo! You look so angry now, but maybe by the end of the night you'll feel differently."

"Hm. Perhaps."

"Oh, and for the record? Anyone with a brain voted for you-"

"Mahiruuu! Tarzan’s putting on his Bug Party thing soon.” Hiyoko arrived suddenly, as she tended to do. This time, not covered in blood, though. Good work there. She was really cleaning up her act around Big Sis Mahiru. A bit. Kind of. There was really only up to go from the starting line, so hey. Progress was progress. “Let's go watch people scream in terror! Maybe he found some Mister Ants! I just looove them~"

Hajime held up a hand. “Hang on. I thought Gonta and Kokichi couldn’t get approval to use the abandoned lab for their stupid plans?”

Hiyoko smirked, looking aside. “Wellllll, turns out, when you elect a girl whose platform is ‘if it makes me laugh, it’s good’, and guy who loves animals enough to want to fuck them, then that blonde bitch gets overruled a bunch!”

Mahiru shrugged helplessly. "Sheesh. I hope she’ll be okay… Hiyoko! You shouldn’t refer to people that way, we should- Whoa! Hold on! We can go, but you don't have to pull my sleeve along like that..."

"Oh, and Hajime!” Hiyoko beamed at him cutely. It was almost enough to make him forget she was a demon child. “Remember our deal~"

What deal? 'If you fall asleep during my dance performance, I'll ruin your life'? How was that any different from her usual way of acting? Regardless, Hajime confirmed that he would be there tonight. He was her ‘slave’ or whatever she called it. It was like being friends, except without Hiyoko feeling any particular obligation to act like a decent human being to him.

“Oh, and here,” Hiyoko said, carelessly tossing a scroll nearly as big as she was over to Byakuya as she left. “Don’t forget, slave!”

“Whipped already, Hajime,” Nagito shook his head.

Hajime squinted at the scroll as Byakuya unfurled it. "Whoa. I thought this island wasn't on any maps. If there's satellite photos of Gopher Island, that means we should all probably be underground or something... Right?"

"Don't be silly, Hajime.” Byakuya shook his head. “It's Yonaga. The impertinent artist girl who sassed me."

"She was probably just trying to be nice. I think." Chiaki tapped her chin.

Hajime gawked. "Wait. You're telling me that she drew this? By hand?"

Byakuya pointed out some blue lines on the paper. "That's not a digital grid system. It's the lines from notebook pages she combined and pasted together to make these.” One meaty finger pointed to the bits of clear tape holding the thing together, unfolded like an accordion. “Every instance of this map is hand-crafted and unique. With my birthright, I can appreciate any masterwork item. No matter its eccentric source. In fact, eccentricity among artists is to be expected."

"Angie’s more upset by not getting her Lab yet than she lets on," Nagito said. "All that brilliant, glorious, hopeful talent. But no tools with which to execute on it. I can't imagine how much despair she feels, since my own worthless talent is sort of always going."

"Well, she's definitely got something to 'execute' with.” Hajime said, frowning. “Sculpting equipment, I guess. She tried to get a ‘donation' of blood for her weird cult thing when we first met. And then chased me around, with a freaking wooden hammer and chisel!"

"That must have been terrifying," Chiaki said listlessly, on the verge of nodding out again. "I mean, while she was swinging that hammer, she was invincible, right?"

Nagito was his usual comforting self, too. "What a quirky way of joking around! She's such a charming girl, and a splendid Ultimate!" As usual, that guy treated life and death like it was just some big game. If Rantaro was right and it was because he’d been through something big, Hajime would have to try and figure out what could have made him like that. Maybe the festival would be a good chance to learn more about all of his friends.

"I didn't think somebody trying to steal my blood was very funny, guys!"

"Heh." Byakuya suffered himself to smile again. This time, a condescending look towards Hajime. "Now, my boy, you are starting to understand. Just for a moment. What it might feel like to be the only sane man surrounded by madness. In short, what it’s like to be me." He pointed a finger in Hajime's face. "Be grateful."

The map wasn't just incredibly detailed and accurate. It was breathtaking, as befitting a piece of fine art. Hajime blinked back a few tears. Words simply failed, and any description would not be adequate to the task. In fact, the very act of attempting to describe this work of art was close to sacrilege. Maybe it was better for everyone's sake that Angie didn't have her lab. It felt like people weren't made to look upon the power of her works.

If that's what she did with some notebook paper and drawing a map, she could probably conquer the world with an anime. Or something.

Nah.

That was just a little too silly, even for this place.

"As you can see," Byakuya said, dragging a meaty finger over all the revealed areas, "The entire accessible island is our fairground today."

"Including the Ultimate Imposter's Lab, right?" Hajime asked. “From what Hiyoko was saying. Maybe the owner gave those guys permission to use it.”

"Unlikely. My Imposter would never admit defeat so openly as to acknowledge that lab. He is dedicated to his role. In fact, I venture that he has nothing else but his act."

"Nothing else?"

Byakuya folded his arms. "Nothing but his talent. Or maybe, like Nanami here, that nothing even led to his incredible ability. No family or friends of his own. No standing in society. So, he took mine in order to exist." Byakuya clenched his fist tightly. "Just speculation, of course. But imagine the type of person who would need to impersonate others just to get by. Such an existence truly cannot be forgiven, hm?"

"I think that's too harsh," Chiaki objected. “If we don’t know him yet, we can’t pass judgement.”

"Until we can ask the Imposter himself why he's doing this, it's impossible to know what his deal is," Nagito agreed. "Both Mukuro and Shuichi have looked into this. I think the reason they stopped, aside from how tough it would be to prove which one is 'real', is that it’s pointless. The Imposter doesn't seem to be an enemy."

"He hasn't done anything," Hajime agreed.

"Yet." Byakuya shook his head. "No. Mercy may be virtue, but don't let down your typical caution just because everybody is running around being all... happy go lucky today. Well. At least he seems dedicated to upholding the same values of the Togami name that I espouse," He explained with strangely certain conviction. "Regardless, most of the other labs will be hosting special events throughout the day. Here’s the schedule..."

* * *

Hajime saw Teruteru last night, staying up late to cook in preparation for the festivities. In fact, he’d gone to the Lagniappe first thing this morning, and found him still at it. Teruteru claimed he’d slept, for a bit, sometime.

It was certainly more peaceful with him working his meat to the bone in the non-sexual way, but it left a certain void. Without Teruteru, Miu had to pull double-duty to provide degenerate perversion.

Which she was at least well qualified to do. Hajime saw her harassing Kiibo and Makoto, dragging the hopeful ahoge boys around to and fro. And making various interesting offers. While liberally insulting Sayaka’s virtue, as the Ultimate Idol ran after and tried to save them.

That was such a spectacle, that Hajime didn’t see Junko until it was far too late.

Note to self. When Junko Enoshima, dressed in a too-small maid outfit, saunters up, says she has a 'super excellent plan', and asks you to 'give your friends’ lives to me', do so immediately.

It’ll end well.

After an ominously long wait, Chiaki and Nagito emerged from the front doors of Teruteru's restaurant. Both dressed as Junko was. Done up like sexy French maids. Complete with short, frilly skirts and shameless plunging necklines. As if the yukata weren't bad enough earlier, this took everything to whole new, spectacular levels.

All he could do was stare.

Tsumugi loomed between the two. Light glinted menacingly off her glasses, even while she was in the shade. "Trying to run away was pointless. You two were done for as soon as you entered the range of my Stand, 「Real/Fiction」."

"I'm so sorry to tarnish your eyes with my unsightly ugliness," Nagito said.

"That's okay," Byakuya replied, "I'm already repressing this image as I see it. Quite a marvelous ability, Hajime. You really should try to pick it up sometime."

Who would want to forget this?

"Fun fact!" Teruteru said, leaning out from the kitchen's billowing smoke. As expected, his beady black eyes had massive bags under them. "Darling Tsumugi actually enjoys it more when other people cosplay with her. Well, she probably gave those two a chance to consent. Maybe. Ah'm not that big on that whole thing myself. As you may have noticed, heh heh. C'mon, guys, say the lines! Worthless fake employees..."

Nagito blushed demurely on command, which showed up well on his pale skin, trying to pull the skirt even a little lower. He didn't have anything in the way of hips to flare it out, which was one of Chiaki's many issues with the outfit. It was still just too short.

By that, Hajime meant that it was the perfect length.

"W-Welcome, Masters~"

While Nagito was panicking, Chiaki remained calm. She gave a gentle, peaceful smile, fit to melt anyone's heart. "Hurry and come on inside, guys." Whoa there, speed demon. Don’t overreact too much and blow a gasket.

Tsumugi shook her head. "Chiaki, you're supposed to be nervous and cute! That's the role you play. Just cute is, as a certain hedgehog might say, ‘insufficient’."

Chiaki audibly yawned, rubbing some sleep from her eyes. "Ah, yeah. Sure. Hey guys, I’m nervous and cute.”

“Hello, nervous and cute,” Byakuya replied with a too-clever-by-half smirk. “I’m Byakuya Togami.” Why did it make so much sense that Byakuya was the master of the Dad Joke?

“No! No no no! You can’t just have your fictional character announce how they feel!” Tsumugi berated her like an angry Hollywood director. “That makes me angry!”

“Super difficult. You set the difficulty level on this scene to Insanity, Tsumugi." So that was a natural thing, then, and not an act. The sedate, nearly-sleeping calm.

"Well, Hajime? Do you really want to put up with the Fashion Alliance's foolishness-" Byakuya asked, as Hajime stepped inside. He let out a sigh. "I suppose I can entertain this commoner game. If it gets me closer to those lovely smells." The amount of meat being cooked back in the kitchens made the entire area around the lab smell divine.

When a gout of actual flame billowed out of the doorway, though, Teruteru had to duck back inside. _"Whoa boy! That’s not good! Tsumugi! Uh, get the menus and stuff please, darling!"_

"Yep, we’ll handle it," She replied. "Oh, and since those two aren't really working here, Teruteru isn't letting them serve the food like waitresses. They can just be greeters at the door! We'll have somebody, well. Special for you gentlemen today~ It's time for the Junko Challenge."

"The Junko... Challenge?"

Emerging from the kitchen were no more, and no less, than two Junko Enoshimas.

Same height, same width and skin tone. Same eyes, same pale makeup-covered skin. Same maid costume, which strained visibly against her supermodel curves. Twice as much as it should. Or rather, in two different places. Even the same little bunny rabbit and ribbon hair charms on her puffy pink hair.

Both of them came bearing excellent gifts; plates stacked with cooked meat, which they deposited at a table.

"Here's a sample of what's coming for the real feast tonight," One of the Junkos said, flashing a peace sign to the two men. Even as she leaned forward, just in case enough of her massive cleavage wasn’t on teasing display.

The other one nodded, sticking her tongue out and striking some kind of punk hand signal. It wasn’t Hajime’s scene, but that was probably what she was going for. "Teruteru got really fuckin’ accommodating once he saw us. Or rather... me."

"What's going on?" Hajime asked, defeated. "Byakuya, can you tell me how there's two Junkos?"

"Hm? I only see one," The heir replied, already seated and having to talk with a full mouth. He consumed wave after wave of meat in a gluttonous fervor. His eyes never raised above the pile of cooked meat on countless skewers. Which he cleared out, and deposited on the table, one after the other. "Quit your dithering, Hajime, or I'll take your half as well. Good food cannot be neglected. It’s an injustice."

Oh, come on.

"It's important for the Junko Challenge that you be allowed to see both Junkos first, side-by-side," Tsumugi explained, clapping her hands together. "Feel blessed. You two are the first customers, or really the first anyone, to get this kind of beautiful vision. Except for me- Ahem. A-Anyway, this should make the trick obvious, if you think about it. At the end of your meal, you'll have to figure out which Junko is your server."

"Which Junko?" Hajime echoed.

"That should be plenty, Moogs," One of the Junkos said. "No more hints! If you figure it out, all this stuff is totally free."

Hajime looked over the food again. "Uh, what if we get it wrong? What does being wrong even mean in this context?"

"If you are wrong," The other Junko explained, hands on her hips as a crown(!) suddenly appeared on her head, "Then we shall punish you most severely for your transgressions against the Ultimate Fashion Alliance! You two will be the next door greeters. And, verily, shall we give you the same outfit as the two out front now. Oohoh."

"Hang on," Hajime objected. "We never actually agreed to take the Junko Challenge! And why are you swapping personalities like they were last season's shoes?"

"That’s not important," The first Junko(?) responded coldly, pushing up a pair of glasses almost as much as that bra pushed up her chest. Nearly. It was a tough bar to vault over. "It’s because we never gave you any choice, duh. C'mon, me. Let's go get them something to drink, before Byakuya chokes on all that thick, juicy meat."

"I just couldn't resist that one," The other Junko said, grinning wide and showing rows of pure white teeth. "I'm a hooker for innuendo! Brb, gentlemen!"

They were gone. Which meant at least a few of Hajime's brain cells started firing again. He was too hungry to do anything but sit and eat, though. Especially since just getting up and leaving again would mean going back to the entrance. Where Chiaki and Nagito were. In their maid forms.

Junko returned with drinks, as promised. There was only one of her, now. Tsumugi and the other Junko were gone. Clearly, this meant the Junko Challenge had begun. Of course, one Junko Enoshima was still plenty lively.

In the ‘oops, tee hee, I accidentally set your table and hair on fire, I’m suuuch a clumsy widdle maid~’ style.

“Oh, please allow me to plainly apologize,” Junko sobbed, as she poured a bucket of water over Hajime, drenching him to the bone. At least it put out his poor ahoge, which was already getting too thick because of all these recent events, only for that to happen to it… “I never thought hair was so flammable!”

“Why do you even have a lighter, anyway?!” Hajime demanded, wiping at his eyes so he could see again.

“Wellll, you know. In case somebody… needed a light! Hahaha!”

It was like if Kokichi graduated from harmless pranks, to harmful ones.

Hajime was not exactly a veteran of Maid Cafes, but he knew what the central racket was. The service was not that great. Or at least, you could find cheaper food, elsewhere. The real commodity you were paying for was the attention of the maids. In this case, it wasn’t about actual money, but the same idea held true.

The service was lousy, delivered as it was by a living hurricane of chaos. But man, was she so hot. Even Hajime couldn’t find it within him to complain.

Even if the table ended up flipped no less than three times, and knives flew at them occasionally, striking close to their targets each time. Junko assured them they were harmless dull training knives, but Hajime saw the razor point on them!

The fact that Teruteru had somehow found a way to outdo his usual, which meant he found a way to outdo perfection, helped things go smoothly. Unlike most maid cafes, what they were actually ‘selling’ was worth real money. It was just a shame about the constant hjinks.

By the end, he’d ‘plainly’ forgotten about Tsumugi’s dumb challenge. Until Junko returned. “So! Since you’re both done, it’s plainly time for your answer, honored customers! Who, exactly, am I? Am I the real Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, and goddess of this new world? Or her ultra-fab, ultra-sleek and deadly, actual-killer-wolf of a sister, Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier?! Will you pick the right one?” She held up a spare, too-small maid costume. “Or the dreadfully wrong one?~”

“Byakuya, do you mind if I take the lead on this one?”

“Hm.” Since Byakuya was stuffing his face from beginning to end instead of eyeing up the waitress, si he was unlikely to know. He nodded gravely. “You’re carrying both of our futures on your back now. Tell her, Hajime.”

Junko giggled. “So, hotshot. Who’s it going to be? If you forgot, feel free to just plainly guess. Leaving it up to chance like that might be really fun, right?~ Maybe you could discover a new… side of yourself, too. _Upupupupu_.”

Hajime shook his head. “‘Junko’, you’ve committed a serious mistake.” He slammed his hands on the table, making the copious empty dishes that Junko hadn’t bothered to clean up jitter and rattle. “How often have the real Junko, or Mukuro, called themselves ‘plain’ in the past? Oh, that’s right. Think I wouldn’t pick up on that little detail, hm? Did you think that by narrowing the possibilities you gave, that you’d fool us? Did you think I’d miss how that’s clearly not a padded chest, but real? Those clues you’ve given us… will be your undoing!”

He pointed his accusation at her. “I’m right, aren’t I…. Tsumugi Shirogane, the Ultimate Cosplayer?!”

‘Junko’ reeled in shock, clutching that generous chest. “N-No… how?!”

Byakuya stood up in surprise. “Hajime! Are you certain of this course? If our answer is wrong…”

“But it’s not wrong,” Hajime replied, certain of himself and his deductions. “Junko is a prideful girl, a supermodel. Mukuro, on the other hand, is serious and humble, but she doesn’t put herself down, either. The only person with the range to pull this performance off? With a body type like that?”

 _“That’s sexual harassment, and employees at my cafe_ do _have to take it!”_ Teruteru shouted approvingly from the kitchen.

“We're not the same at all!" Hajime shouted back, before turning to the point. "Ahem. While using that annoying verbal tic to ‘plainly’ drill it into our skulls? As if she’d forgotten how to speak without it?! You’re the only one, Tsumugi! Now reveal yourself, and admit… defeat?”

‘Junko’ took off the wig as commanded. Revealing a head of neatly-kept raven-black hair. She rubbed off some of the makeup that concealed her freckles. “Sorry, guys.”

“I suppose it’s a sign of innocence in some ways that you can’t tell when something like that is fake,” Byakuya remarked, facepalming. “God damn it, and god damn you, Hajime.”

The real Junko emerged from the kitchen area, grinning ear-to-ear. She maneuvered to block the exit before Hajime could even think to run. When Hajime looked back towards the kitchen, that’s when Tsumugi walked into the room. Her blue eyes absolutely glowed with menace. In fact, she had a visible aura of energy around her.

“You’re right, Hajime, it’s over. I can’t believe you thought I would ever cosplay as real people! That I even could! I don’t know whether to be flattered, or insulted. Haven’t you noticed that ever since Junko showed me a better way to live, I haven’t said the word ‘plain’ one single time?”

“Not really,” Hajime admitted, sweat dropping.

Mukuro looked away in guilt for what was to come. “She told me to say it a lot.”

“Maybe I just have so little presence that you forgot about that?” Tsumugi asked, her tone acerbic as she spread her hands wide to either side. “Plain little Tsumugi, who would care about her?”

“I never said that-”

“Junko cares, that’s who! She offered me something way better than Usami’s dumb hope. Something wonderful. So in return, I’ll do whatever she says. I hope you boys are prepared for the consequences of toying with a young maiden’s heart.”

“Tsumugi, hold on, you can’t make us-”

Junko cackled. “It’s too late! Behold! The power… of Ultimate Real Fiction!”

There was never any hope.

From the moment they entered the restaurant, the only way this meal could have ended was in absolute, silky black, lacy despair.

* * *

Compared to how the afternoon had gone so far, this was nothing.

It was stupid to get nervous at a concert, after being forced to dress up as a pretty maid, right?

And, of course, seeing Byakuya Togami try to fit into a maid outfit, too. All seven hundred kilograms.

Chiaki and Nagito got a nice eyeful as they were released, and got to bask in the karma of passing on their sentence to the person who got them into it. Even Chiaki, who Hajime _wore a maid outfit in front of, oh God,_ looked very… satisfied for some reason. No doubt, she was basking in the feeling of humiliating him. Beneath the fluffy, curvy shell of that Ultimate Gamer lurked the heart of a lion.

Or maybe she just really liked the sight of him like that, tugging that tiny, frilly skirt down to preserve some shred of his own modesty. Which possibility was more unfortunate? Either way, there was no doubting that Chiaki, Nagito, and Byakuya were all mad at him.

Then there were all the other people who saw him and Byakuya. Chihiro and Mikan came to Teruteru’s lab, looking for lunch. Both of them probably thought all sorts of things about Hajime now...

Then fucking Kokichi and Celeste happened by. That’s when things really took a turn for the unfortunate...

No. Hajime would learn from Byakuya’s example. Repress, repress. It never happened. It never happened. That second bet, and its result, especially never happened. At all.

How did Kirumi do it?

Hajime found it sadly easy to repress all the trauma, given what things were like at his old high school. He just kept his focus solely on the present.

On the fact that he was about to go out on stage in front of basically everyone. Just to further make a fool out of himself.

It wasn't like anyone was expecting much from him in the first place, at least. Or this concert in general. He heard the countless jokes. He'd made more than a few of his own. Rocketpunch Supermarket had run clean out of earplugs and headphones. Mikan even told him ,peeking between her bandaged fingers, that she’d set up an emergency trauma unit with a spare camping tent from the market, just in case.

It was the combination, more than any one element, that doomed it completely from the outset. If 'just' Sayaka, the Ultimate Idol, Ibuki, the Ultimate Musician, or Kaede, the Ultimate Pianist, got up onto stage, people would have rightfully high expectations. Yes, even for Ibuki, in her own special way. Getting to see an Ultimate-level talent unleashed, going all-out, was an incredible experience. For normal people, it could be a once-in-a-lifetime thing, to even witness that kind of blooming talent. The sort of thing that inspired envy and awe in equal measure.

Hajime had yet to figure out what he was good at. But as a good friend so tastefully remarked, it sure wasn't music. Oh yeah?! Well you sure aren't going to be able to destroy the world while that out of tune, Ibuki!

An unexpected face ducked into the tent out back of the stage. A face with visible rivet and weld lines and faintly glowing eyes in the shade from the afternoon sun. "Kiibo? You got invited, too?"

"Kaede insisted I come along," The robot explained. "After she heard of one of my impressive new features."

"New features?" Hajime echoed. "What, do you have speakers for playing music? That would be awesome."

Kiibo wagged his gauntlet, one finger extended. "Don't be silly, Hajime. Any 40,000 yen laptop in a grocery store electronics section could boast of such 'powers'. I am, though it may be easy to forget, still an Ultimate like everyone else. Professor Idabashi's work won't lose to any marvel of this modern age."

That was true. Well, not the 'easy to forget' part. Hajime didn't know very many robots. Which was just another reason why going to HPA probably was the right choice, after all. On the one hand, he was stuck on a tropical island with a bunch of interesting people. Most of them attractive. On the other hand, danger and mystery.

Please, no. Anything but an interesting life.

Even if, like Makoto, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he didn't belong in this fantastical setting. Everyone else here had something great about them. Even Kiibo's very nature was incredible. Hajime, well. He'd hit the drums with the drumsticks a bunch. That was what he had to offer. Maybe people without talent could never reach across that gap, like the people in his old high school had always said when they thought he couldn't hear them-

"Hey, Hajimeme!"

Did _every_ annoying guy on this island have to decide he was their _soul brother_ and slap his back and make up nicknames for him? And take him on 'babe hunting' missions? Was there something about his appearance that made frat boys think he was someone they could confide in?

"Hey, Leon. You look fired up."

The redheaded baseball star made sure to dress the part today; fashionably ripped jeans and the works. In fact, Hajime didn't remember seeing him in those before. And the market stocked pre-ripped jeans..."You fuckin' know it, man! This performance is taking place at my lab, so it’s bound to be the bomb.” Hajime agreed with most of the words in that sentence. “We're Ibuki's band now! You, me, and her. So we've gotta pour our hearts and souls out on stage for everyone! Anything less wouldn't be worthy of all the time she spent teaching us."

Hajime grinned. What time was that, exactly? "You're right." Here he was, thinking about 'talent' and wondering if people would hate him, and indulging in all the usual paranoid thoughts, when Leon over there was actually taking Ibuki's encouraging words to heart.

Who was really the idiot here?

"It's like she said, brother. This stage ain't big enough for worries and regrets!"

"Right. Let's do this."

_"WAHOO! Ibuki can sense all the dense male energy in here, and she heavily approves!"_

With that, the girls entered from their own adjacent tent, and, well. They were pretty. No, 'pretty' was an insulting term. Beautiful was true, even of Ibuki. She didn't follow the standards of feminine beauty very much, she acted and looked very out-there and more like a foreigner, but that was her style. She stayed in her usual outfit, the schoolgirl look, which showed how she wouldn't change who she was. Which was a hyper-energetic hamster with punk-rock trappings. Heck yeah.

Kaede had opted for that yukata after all, something Hajime silently thanked her for on behalf of the human race. A fluffy pink one that, well. There was a lot of her to wrap up. It did a pretty good job. Unlike poor Chiaki's outfit. Hajime had to stop himself from trying to compare, because it might be a close contest, and one he would enjoy, but he had to get his mind into more serious matters.

Not that looking at Sayaka would help. She actually had access to her own Ultimate Lab, which meant she had an outfit befitting of an idol. In fact, Hajime distinctly remembered seeing her on TV with that exact bright pink ruffled skirt and frilly shirt thing. He didn't have any real way to describe it, since his talent also wasn't fashion, but she looked amazing. Long, bare legs, which showed strength without being visibly muscular at all. Her entire body was like that; toned, fit, not ripped like, say, Tenko. Not that it was bad to be ripped. Sayaka just kept herself in that impossible-seeming state of not having any weak points at all, as a woman.

Makoto, you bastard.

"I'm glad you decided to come along, guys," Kaede said. "Hajime, whatever happens. If you feel doubt about how you're doing, just remember this. Nobody expects anything from you anyhow."

Hajime winced. "Well, _Class Rep,_ I'd like to see how your piano playing could even be heard over all the noise we're going to make."

"Heh. Just leave that to me," She said, hands on her hips in a pose strikingly that of Ibuki herself. Oh, it's because Ibuki was mimicking her every action. Until she glanced over. And when Kaede looked back, she started doing it again.

"Just stand there looking pretty and we'll handle things," Sayaka assured the boys, her giggling a gentle and beautiful sound even when she was teasing them.

Somehow, nobody could return her taunting, wonder why.

 _Leon, at least_ pretend _you aren't staring!_

Kiibo's in-built clock function, of which he constantly boasted in spite of the fact that, thanks to the Hope Pads in their pockets, literally every single Ultimate had that 'function' too, beeped and went off. "It's time."

“Please tell me that’s not the feature you were invited for,” Hajime said.

“Of course not. You’ll see, come on.”

The crowd of Ultimates might as well have been thirty-five hundred strong, instead of just thirty five. He saw the rolling waves of people all around, like they were in a massive stadium. It felt like spotlights were on them, painting them in powerful high-beams against Leon's music stage.

Until Hajime blinked the midday light from his eyes, and the considerably less dramatic reality unfolded beneath him. It still meant a lot of eyes were on him, a lot of the time. An experience he was definitely not used to. Back in high school, if people paid attention to him, it was a bad thing. Even during that little debate with Kaede on day 2, he'd been sweating bullets.

Like those huge bullets that were shot at you in Super Mario.

Okay, maybe he was being infected, slowly but surely, by Chiaki's references.

At least he was dressed as a guy.

What did Ibuki expect, though, by dragging him up in front of everybody?

This whole thing sounded like one elaborate joke. As if a joke had started this morning, with the election of Gundham, and just kept rolling along until this very moment. All culminating in this concert. So, the joke kept going. To the only conclusion it would have. What was the most absurd possible result of this supposedly Ultimate Concert? The one everyone made jokes about, but came to see, some just out of morbid curiosity?

It wasn't bad.

It wasn't spectacular; as expected. Any of the three elite musicians going solo would have made much better music. They might not have had as much fun, though. Kaede, Ibuki, and Sayaka were all smiles, and it didn't just seem like their usual people-training. Ibuki beamed brighter than that sun overhead.

She also showed remarkable restraint. She still screamed her head off, but it was at a level where you could, in fact, hear Kaede's heartbreakingly powerful piano work. Sayaka was most at home in the center. Upfront, dancing and directing the crowd, but her vocals on the mic could also be picked out usually. Even though she was very traditionally feminine, part of being the Ultimate Idol meant that she knew when to turn up the volume and project. That was the main contrast. Ibuki screamed, Sayaka projected.

Hajime did his best to focus on the sheet music before him, reading as much as he could, and playing as much as he could. In spite of Ibuki's 'idea', they didn't in fact dub him over with an actual drummer's work, so it wasn't something that could be called good. He did his best, though. Throwing himself into drumming helped to distract him.

Things were very awkward to start. Everyone played over each other, then tried to adjust, but they would then adjust over each other. Like if everyone was in a call and halfway across the world from each other, and the time delay made interruptions a constant hazard.

Eventually, everyone got a feel for each others' styles. Kaede got as loud as she could. Smashing that electronic keyboard like it owed her money. Knocking it over in the process. Ibuki, as mentioned, kept her own volume to merely a raging typhoon of living fury and wrath. Sayaka somehow gave a lot of direction to everyone, including Hajime, even though she sang a lot, too, demonstrating poise and calm. Leon wasn’t much good at the guitar, but his sheer enthusiasm and infectious joy spread to the others, Even Hajime and Kiibo, by far the biggest lumps of the group, couldn’t help their smiles.

While Kiibo himself employed the most powerful and graceful of instruments. A triangle that came out of his body, and that he struck with a small metal rod to make sounds. Yeah. That was the amazing new function.

Of course.

Maybe it was like what Hajime had heard about learning to dance. If you were too worried about looking silly, nothing was ever going to happen. You had to open yourself up to that possibility. To be willing to look absurd in front of others, before you could get good. Or, more importantly, have a good time with it.

Compared to his service as a maid, this was nothing!

Hajime stopped cowering behind his sheet music and drums, which meant he scanned the crowd. He saw Chiaki and Nagito, back in festival yukata again. However, instead of giving him scornful looks, they were cheering him on wildly. Well, as much as either of them could manage. Neither were loud people. Byakuya even showed up to watch him make a fool of himself, and hopefully he got his no-money’s worth for that. Laugh it up, big guy, I deserve this and so much more for what I put you through. At least he could take comfort in knowing that the three of them didn’t seem too mad at him still.

Considering they’d had nearly two weeks on this island together, living with no other human contact, he’d had conversations with everyone. Even the real recluses, like Maki and Touko, at various points. Even if they were very short conversations that ended with a door being slammed.

Some people naturally gravitated closer to him. tThe types he’d really be comfortable calling friends among the crew. Rantaro, Mikan, Chihiro, Kazuichi, Sonia, Ryoma, Ishimaru... The friendly faces far outnumbered disapproving ones. Even Junko herself, over there in the back, was headbanging. Alongside Gundham and Kaito who were not, who, plus Kaede on stage, were all the new overlords of Gopher Island.

Which meant the Ultimates could look forward to many more of Junko’s antics.

Oh, good.

Even Fuyuhiko and Peko, noted sticks in the mud, wandered by to watch. While Hiyoko wasn’t around to give them all mountains of shit, fucking Kokichi took up the duty with double the intensity to make up for it. And, occasionally, throwing a classy wink Hajime’s way, just to dig up those hastily-repressed memories. Son of a bitch.

Of all the Ultimates, though, seeing one very distinctive profile in the crowd surprised him the most. Sakura, the stone-faced, massive well-tanned muscular mountain of a woman, the Ultimate Martial Artist, had turned out for the concert, alongside her good friend Hina.

They both gave him thumbs-up.

How surreal.

If Sakura was going to approve of their performance in her own stoic way, how could he do anything but he happy with it?

If you wanted to know what it actually sounded like, just imagine two people trying to sing, one person playing an electric keyboard, a tonedeaf robot playing a symbol, an average joe beating a huge drum set, and a total of two loud piercing-laden idiots playing guitar. All on loudspeakers and microphones.

That’s what you got.

A cacophony.

A mess.

But it was _their_ mess.

They were all such different people, who came from different backgrounds. Heck, they weren’t even all of the same species. Much less including all the more minor details that separated fellow human beings from each other. Yet there they were, the life of the party for just a bit.

Hajime had been nervous to start, but he was sad when the concert was over. Although having that noise replaced by applause and cheers, well. For just a moment, he understood Leon’s desires. Until he jumped off the stage, tried to bodysurf, and discovered that some dozens of Ultimates, most of whom had no interest in touching him, weren’t enough people to keep a man afloat. Just like his dreams for a music career, he crashed and burned.

Miu dragged Kiibo off, making jokes about ‘backstage access’ and how she was a sex-starved groupie, or something. With Kaede in hot pursuit, to try and make sure Kiibo could still get married someday. If he wanted to. And the laws changed to give robots human rights.

Makoto and Kyouko, interesting pair there, took Sayaka off somewhere before she could be mobbed by her adoring dozens of fans. All while the three of them kept casting glances over towards Hajime’s group for some reason.

Ibuki and Hajime found their way together towards Chiaki, Nagito, and Byakuya, who had nothing but praise for their efforts. Except Byakuya, but he was a grumpy gus anyway. “Are you quite sure you’re finished? I think I still have the ability to hear a little bit. Don’t want to finish that off, hm?”

Not that his words affected Ibuki, except to get her even more hyped. She was already about to start a fire in the overgrown grass of Leon’s abandoned baseball field or something from sheer vibrations. “That was spectacular-mundo! Oh man. Ibuki is charged up from that performance! Ibuki is at a power level you’ve never seen before! In fact, I’m gonna do it. I’m really gonna do it!”

Hajime blinked. “What are you ‘really gonna do’, Ibuki?”

Ibuki proclaimed to the world, **“Ibuki is going to ask Byakuya to go out with her! Later, when it’s just the two of us!”**

Everyone stared at her, and then at him, then back to her.

“I-Ibuki was never very good at planning. Ha ha… ha…”

Ouch. What an awkward situation. Byakuya was going to rip her to shreds for her ‘impertinence’. in front of all these people. Hajime could see it in his eyes- “Hm. Don’t you think that’s moving a bit too fast, Ibuki? Where in the world are your manners?”

Nagito, unable to endure tension in the air this any more, stepped in. “Hey! That was hilarious, Ibuki! Hahaha, you got him! Right, guys? What a great joke. Come on, Ibuki, you shouldn’t joke about=”

“Stop talking.” Byakuya sighed. “Look. I’d rather we actually discuss this in private. You lot! Go back to whatever you were doing. That’s my order. Whether I won an election or not, I am still Byakuya Togami.”

With that, he took Ibuki by the pierced ear, and dragged the rock musician, flailing, off towards the tents. Where they could have a moment of privacy to talk.

Chiaki tapped her chin. “Isn’t that where Miu was going?”

“Oh no.” Hajime and Nagito shared a look. The two boys set off at a run. “Come on! We’ve got to stop them, before it’s too late!”

What a mess.

All these personalities and perspectives clashing together. A bunch of exceptional students who were called the best in their fields. The future leading lights of this world. Or at least, they were. All sent to this strange place, and made to live together by a stuffed rabbit. To hide from some great cataclysm.

All these over-the-top characters. Differences making them clash, argue, bringing them to misunderstandings, like Rantaro said. Even when things seemed like they were going smoothly on Gopher Island, there was always some new thing to come along and mess it all up.

What a big mess, alright.

It was _their_ mess, though. This was the only place left in the world the Ultimates could make their stand.

The sun was only starting to dip low on the horizon by the end of the concert. The night was so young, it had yet to be born. The Ultimate Festival had barely begun, and there were so many more memories to make.

Good, and bad.

More good than bad.

Hopefully.


	22. 1-12. The Ultimate Festival II (Hajime)

Rather than cursing the darkness, the last Ultimates of Hope’s Peak Academy lit a candle.

Night fell over the calm waters of the Pacific Ocean. The darkness was broken by only a single point of brilliant light. The Gopher Island archipelago, strung up like a Christmas tree.

At least, the parts that were accessible. Three islands, plus the central hub, out of a total of ten on the map. Usami said more was coming tomorrow, but Hajime had multiple, painful experiences in trusting Usami to be reliable. However, regardless of all that, this island was their home. While doubts remained about the Flashback Lights or the Ultimate Hunt, personal experience was a powerful cure for doubt.

The annoying littering alarms were turned off. The Ultimates reshaped the landscape themselves.

Lights and lanterns stretched along the pathways and buildings, as if they were part of a big city that stayed up all hours. First, Second, and Third Islands were all hopping well past the evening tonight. Everyone was still out. Even the loners and shut-ins emerged, timid or brash. Even if just for a little bit.

Thanks to a victorious Junko’s decree, the Ultimate Cosplayer’s Lab was an open bar the moment lunch ended, straight on to nightfall. Tsumugi had no objections to becoming the Ultimate Bartender, if it was on Junko’s order. Just like Mukuro, she had become downright obedient to the overwhelming charisma and force of personality that Junko put out.

Just as Angie’s faith in Atua was starting to catch on among some members of the crew, quietly. Or in the case of Chihiro and Mikan, open and proud.

Hajime could have worried about those developments, sure. But tonight? He just couldn’t be arsed. If his job was to worry about all this stuff and try to get people to not do stupid things, then tonight he was off. Like the salaryman he appeared to be with his normal outfits, he’d take this chance and go out drinking with friends from work, and give up his worries and cares. Just for tonight.

He made sure to pick up a bottle of sake. He didn’t even have to pay any Celeste Chips for it; it was compensation from Tsumugi for their troubles earlier. Instead of staying there to drink and relive his bad memories of the Junko Challenge, Hajime, Chiaki, and Nagito went on their way together.

To give the island a lively vibe, dozens of Usamis were wandering around. The white rabbits were identical, except for the Magic Stick. That gave away which one was the 'original', if such a distinction was meaningful for Usami. Hajime still didn't quite know what the hell Usami actually was..

She also manned a number of the wooden booths, selling Hope's Peak merchandise in the vein of those keychains she made for her students on the first day. Nagito didn't have to make those jokes about Usami being the one who should have paid the Ultimates to take her hand-crafted nick-knacks. It was mean-spirited and rude. Even if it was also true.

It was especially cruel for him to joke like that, in light of his performance at all the obligatory festival games.

This motherfucker.

The goldfish scooping booth, where the goal was to sweep up the little floppy fish with a fragile paper net and avoid breaking it? Nagito juggled two nets, full of wriggling fishes. Neither fell, neither broke. He cleaned out the entire supply of fish in an instant.

Usami flew by and cast a magic spell to get more goldfish. To Himiko's awe.

Miu worked with Usami on the mechanical games, producing things normally seen in an arcade.

“Hahaha! Even when she’s been cast out from her homeland by the ignorant ‘common wisdom’ of the masses, she doesn’t falter or lose hope! Even when the fucking stuffed white rabbit asks her for help, without actually giving her a goddamn Ultimate Lab, or even a screwdriver to… screw various things in nice and tight, ehe… The great Miu Iruma never steps down from a challenge!”

“Wow,” Chiaki said. Her deadpan reaction would be sarcastic, if it was coming from somebody who was more active. From her, though, it was as sincere as she got for emotion. The way she looked at those glittering arcade fighters, DDR, and of course, pinball machines was worrying.

“While Celeste isn’t going to let either of us back into her fine establishment,” Nagito said, “How about you, Miu? If you’re up for any challenge, then surely your inventions can crush the meager talent of trash like me?”

“Hah! It won’t even be a contest, you fuckin’ wierdo! Step right up, and behold the power of my Ultimate ability!”

No points for guessing how that went.

Because those two took all the points.

A normal person would have been upset. Normal didn’t exist on this island, though. Not among the Ultimates. Especially not for the gorgeous girl genius Miu Iruma over there. Just as she, like Angie, showed her amazing skills even without the proper toolkits or conditions to make them shine, she also showed her exceptional personality. “ _Nnngh_ … to have my carefully-laid plans _plowed through_ with such a reckless, brutal, natural power…” She vibrated.

Chiaki showed some mercy. The only game Nagito didn't humiliate, though, was the target shoot. Where he only won a few strings of prizes in a row.

He gave a huge stuffed Usami plushie to Chiaki, no doubt thinking it was really funny to watch her stumble around with it. It wasn’t even heavy. It was just unwieldy, thick, and fluffy.

Like her.

"Hey, Nagito, are you going to make her carry that thing around? It's probably bigger than Usami herself-"

"This is fine, Hajime," Chiaki shook her head. "I kinda like this design anyway, so you don't have to worry."

What a noble girl, pretending not to be annoyed by Usami just to spare Nagito's feelings. She really did have an angelic disposition when you weren't facing her in Super Smash Brothers. Or that one time when they all played Mario Party, and, well.

That was the only time they ever would.

For his part in reacting to the evening’s festival atmosphere, Hajime ended up getting another balloon every time he passed the stand. Different colors each time. Until he had a huge rainbow floating overhead, glinting off the lights and openly burning torches. In the long shadows and deep, warm glow of that night, he still looked just as silly. But they were his, dangit.

Other items were stored back in his room, like all the mall Usami plushies that Hajime kept discovering and needing to secure. For reasons. The sake bottle, he kept with them, carting it around despite how unwieldy it was. How generous of the Ultimate Cosplayer to give them so much to drink.

Plentiful drinking was the order of the day.

People paced themselves in the daylight hours. Save for a few like Junko and Chiaki, who could drink and drink and just not feel the effects at all. Or those like Kazuichi and Leon, on the other hand. Who got hammered in true college boy fashion, nearly to death, and had to be taken away to their rooms.

The fall of night gave everyone permission to really cut loose.

Kirumi’s trash detail made sure to dispose of their plastic and paper cups in trash bins. Some of the more enthusiastic college kids were going to end up hunched over those same trash bins, if they weren't careful.

It seemed absurd to even think about. Throwing a party, in the face of all the despair they'd recently uncovered.

It was because they survived it all. That was why Sonia decided to bring everybody together like this, the Ultimate Festival. The world might have gone mad, but as long as they could still keep going, they'd continue to carry on the memory of Hope's Peak.

Nurturing hope and talent.

As long as they were still going, they wouldn't give up. They owed that much to all the people they'd left behind.

_Speaking of which._

_"Heeey! Ultimate Hunt! Come bomb our island! We lit it up for you!"_ Hajime cupped his hands and called out, past gentle waves crashing against the rocky shorefront. All the light reflected beautifully off the water, forming gentle wave patterns as it went until finally, it dissipated into the night.

Nagito laughed, now the one burdened by the huge bottle of sake, as well as their empty cups. By his own volunteering to take on all the work. As usual. "Nice try, Hajime. But if they haven't managed it again in two weeks, I doubt the Weeds will find us tonight."

Some kind of weed had clearly found Nagito in his ‘interesting life’- “Oh yeah? Is that your optimistic view of life you keep talking about?”

“It is about the only thing I’ve got going for me. Well, that, and one other thing.” Nagito shrugged. “The only thing I can believe in with all of my might. The only thing that never changes. Constant as the north star up there.” He pointed upwards, towards the beautiful heavens unfolding over them. To the brightest star overhead, the guide by which travellers had fixed their maps and courses for thousands of years. “Yet turbulent as the stormy seas. My luck, of course! Bad follows good, and good follows bad. So, for all the bad lately, we’re due a night like tonight, a night full of hope. And sexy party games.”

They’d see about that second one, but the rest was definitely something Hajime could get behind. They’d earned this break. Even Usami was letting up with her ‘rehabilitation’ talk until tomorrow. Just so tonight could be something everyone could enjoy.

As befitting his skinny body type, Nagito was tipsy and red-faced after just a cup of Tsumugi's stronger stuff. However, Chiaki, though she wasn't a very worldly girl, could really put down glass after glass. Which she did, until, in the finest traditions of university students everywhere, she passed out right on the bar. However, she woke up soon afterwards, and refused to go home, wanting to make more memories. Then, afterwards, she continued passing out, on benches, on Nagito. Wherever seemed convenient for her.

Honestly, it was no different from her normal behavior, so Hajime didn’t even find that alarming.

The stoic swordswoman Peko, one of the more lethal parts of the island’s new Security force, was at the entrance to Third Island when they arrived. Her pink armband clashed with the stylish and sleek black yukata she wore, which gave her an old-timey aura, combined with that sword. Women couldn’t be samurai back in the day, but she’d have fit right in, and silenced any guy who questioned her ability with a single blinding-fast blow. Something Hajime never, ever forgot while dealing with the red-eyed maiden, and listening to her go on and on about her childhood friend.

She was speaking with the large Byakuya and Ibuki. One of whom was also stoic and serious, a good match for her demeanor, if not body type. While the other was dead drunk and laughing up a storm.

It’s up to the discretion of the reader to figure out which was which.

“Good evening,” Peko greeted the newcomers, nodding respectfully to them, arms crossed.

Talk about a designated driver for life. Hajime approved. “Seems like everyone’s getting down to the whole ‘drunken partying’ thing. Any plans for that, Peko, Byakuya?” He asked, grinning.

“That sort of frivolity isn’t in my nature.” No way, Peko wasn’t a party girl?

Byakuya shook his head. “I don’t always drink. But when I do, I don’t get fall-down drunk like some paycheck-to-paycheck salaryman. I might enjoy a bit of something high-quality, if Tsumugi has anything suited to my palate.”

Tch, rich guys. Well, not that Hajime had room to talk.

Peko continued, severely, “A lot of people are going to regret they didn’t show moderation and temperance, tomorrow.”

**“NOT IBUKI!~”**

“Ibuki, there’s no need to shout, we’re all right here,” Byakuya chastised the smaller girl on his arm, a bundle of wobbling energy.

**“NOT IBUKI!~”**

“Stop repeating yourself, as well!”

“Maybe we will regret it,” Hajime admitted to Peko. “But that’s a problem for the future to solve. It’s like what Rantaro said. Sometimes, being weak isn’t such a bad thing, it just means you’ve opened yourself up to life, Peko.”

“That reminds me,” Peko remarked, rubbing her chin. “I have yet to pay you back, Hajime. Feel free to keep leaving yourself open tonight, and I might do something about it.”

As if. There was no way Peko, the stone-faced assassin of a woman, would care about that. Right? “I-I'll make sure these two don't die, at least," Hajime said hastily, indicating his tipsy companions on either side. Who were already losing concepts such as ‘personal space’. "I hope there's enough designated body-draggers around."

"Kaito ordered Security to remain sober and at the ready," Byakuya explained. "A prudent measure. Everyone is acting like the traitors couldn’t possibly exist, or the Imposter is harmless, or our communal life couldn’t be shattered so easily. Never forget that lesson, Hajime. You saw how quickly all the fun and games could come to an end, if we’re not careful.”

The Ultimate Wet Blanket, Byakuya Togami.

It wasn’t that he was wrong. He was too right, an that bothered Hajime. “Kaito gave that order while hitting the bottle himself, right?”

“Naturally.” Byakuya smirked past his chins at the others. “That's one lesson that can only come from having power and prestige, Hajime! Such things were made to be used!" Just as he finished his latest nugget of valuable wisdom, off he went, being dragged by a girl a fraction of his size. Who could barely move on her own, much less pull a grown man along if he didn’t want to go that way.

Aw, they didn’t get to ask if the two of them worked things out. Then again, the results spoke for themselves. While Hajime was thinking of people who just needed to be more honest with their feelings, why not check? “Peko, have you had a chance to hang out with Fuyuhiko yet?”

Peko glared daggers at him. “Why would I bother ‘hanging out’ with any of the people from my class? I’ve seen how you all act.”

“Aww, come on, Peko,” Nagito laughed. “It’s not like you can hide secrets in a community this small. I know that all too well myself. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know somebody better. In fact, I heard you were planning on maybe asking him out tonight?”

“T-That!” Peko’s face was as red as her eyes now. Or Nagito’s own face. “No doubt, yet another lie from Kokichi.” It was true that the little white-coated gremlin had been going around saying that, along with many other things. Kokichi was such an effective liar because he mixed truth and lies freely, and in unknown ratios, though. So it was hard to say for certain.

“Peko.” Nagito switched moods on a dime, as a drunk man might be expected to do. “Tonight is the night. Never lose sight of your hope. Without hope, we’re truly nothing. Pitiful trash. Tools to be used.”

“Tools?” Peko echoed, staring at the white-haired boy. “Without hope, we…?”

“Don’t bother even trying to understand him,” Hajime sighed. “I can’t do it when he’s not tipsy, and he gets going about hope or the Ultimates or whatever. Come on, guys. We’ve got somewhere to be, let’s stop bothering the woman.”

Chiaki woke up long enough to give a thumbs-up to Peko as they walked by.

She also noticed somebody hanging out on the overhang porch of Hiyoko Saionji's Ultimate Lab before Hajime himself did.

They hovered outside the classical wooden building, rather than going inside. "Mikan? Tenko?"

Tenko was bright and energetic as ever, since she was greeting a girl. "Good evening, Miss Chiaki! If I may say so, you are looking spectacularly lovely this evening!" In fact, if anything, she had a lot of manic energy. Almost as if they’d interrupted something. A private discussion, hm? Between those two?

Chiaki's warm smile was a gift to this world, in any case. "Thanks. You too." That was true. Both dressed for the occasion. Somehow, Mikan fit into a white yukata. Which was as impressive as finding one that even halfway fit Chiaki. For similar reasons. He just wasn’t going to ask about those pink stains on the short sleeves and legs.

Tenko was no slouch, either. Her yukata covered far more than her usual outfit would, but it hugged her toned physique and curves much better.

Those three girls standing together, well.

Maybe he was a degenerate male all along.

"Hey, girls," Nagito waved.

"Oh, Hajime and Nagito. You're also here."

Just because you don't say as many hurtful things anymore doesn't mean you can crinkle your face up like that-

"Are you here for Hiyoko's performance?" Hajime asked.

"Ehe.... ehe... Maybe?" Mikan was looking worse than usual. On the inside. As in, all the copious and painfully obvious emotional issues. No wonder, either. This particular building emitted an aura of some great old sleeping evil. The moral of horror movies was often 'don't mess with shrines to old gods' and stuff like that. This place looked like Usami had taken design tips from all those movies about the old, mysterious Japanese countryside.

Or, as Chiaki put it, "Very Fatal Frame. We're lucky Mahiru's around.”

Mikan started to admit, “T-Tenko just had something she wanted to ask me-” Before she was interrupted.

"We're hanging out here a bit, before we go in!" Tenko proclaimed, loud and proud, as if they were looking for the cure to cancer out here. "Um, so about that, Mikan, j-just forget everything! Tenko was just kidding around, of course! Hahaha."

"Ehe. I knew it, Miss Tenko. You just had to be joking... since, you know. It's me." Mikan's bright, cute smile didn't fit her next line at all. "And I'm worse than pig slime."

"T-T-That was most certainly not what Tenko was trying to imply! Please accept Tenko's deepest apologies!" The martial artist dropped to the wooden floor in an instant with the crash of a gunshot, folding into another dogeza.

"Haha. You girls get along so well," Nagito sighed. "Watching Ultimates being so friendly and kind to each other fills me with the greatest hope imaginable."

"Better stock up on that now," Hajime remarked, going over towards the great big, heavy double doors, and pushing them open with a groan. "Nnngh. Because abandon hope, all ye who enter here." They even creaked, just like in a movie. Hajime felt like suggesting they split up and look for clues. Or maybe ask the creepy bow-legged caretaker of the place if they could stay the night.

The building didn't even have electricity.

Only paper lanterns and standing torches lit the interior after nightfall, casting everything in the same warm glow as the path outside. In here, though, all the open flames just added to the feeling of some ancient ritual. It also made the theater stiflingly hot. Even with windows open. The building of course lacked air conditioning. At night, that wouldn't normally be an issue, since things could get downright brisk and chilly after dark, but not inside of an oven.

Even Hiyoko's Lab wasn't going to cut anybody any slack.

Hajime was surprised to see so many people. It wasn't the same turnout as the concert, but Hiyoko must have asked, bullied, or threatened a lot of people into attending. There were the Black Hats seated in the back, next to Mondo and Taka, but minus Mikan.

Would Hiyoko be upset by that?

She had no actual right to be surprised that somebody she’d dumped on would, perhaps, not care about her dance recital thing. Then again, she made that threat to Hajime. Which proved she put a lot more stock in how others viewed her than she let on. She wanted to pull them closer, but also pushed them away with such toxic force.

What a troublesome kid.

He didn’t envy either Mahiru, or Rantaro.

Hajime was surprised to find a seat next to Ryoma in the gallery. The Ultimate Tennis Pro kept a low profile. Helped by the fact that he was so tiny. Unlike Kokichi or Hiyoko, who might have been trying to compensate a bit for being so little by turning up the volume, he didn't act out. His low-key personality and lack of interest in socializing helped ensure he was out of mind. That seemed to be just what he was going for. Although when Hajime did go over to say 'hi', he was always willing to talk just a little bit.

"Ryoma?"

"Little people solidarity," The man who was also more prominently known as the Ultimate Prisoner explained sardonically. He lit a puff off the e-cigarette he'd won from Celeste's casino. Before, like Nagito, he'd been banned for the crime of winning too much. It still produced puffs of vapor and glowed faintly in the darkness, but at least it didn't also smell like refined cancer. He took a deep drag. "Even I know enough to keep a promise, right?"

"Oh, right." Hajime had mentioned that he’d love to see Ryoma at the festival, but was surprised he took it so seriously. Given the careless, listless way Ryoma went through the average day. Like he was barely awake. Like if Nagito had even less drive. Seeing that much personal loyalty was unexpected. "Hey, when does the show start?"

Usamis blew out the torches, until the place was engulfed in darkness. In that condition, Ryoma's cig made for a nice lamp, and Hajime could see beady eyes clearly on that little round face. "Thinkin' that would be right now."

The great night-black curtains at the stage rolled back, pulled via ropes by a pair of Usamis on either end. At least, that's what it looked like to Hajime. The only thing clearly lit on the stage, from the newly-revealed torches, was Hiyoko herself. She didn't have her usual orange kimono; this one was black, and combined with a veil she tossed off, she'd blended into that curtain seamlessly. At least her puffy blonde twintails gave it away now, along with the glow reflecting off her eyes. Once again, they glowed, as Hajime had seen before, during that messed-up introduction scene she staged.

They peered out of the slit eye-holes of a white face mask, on which whiskers and a fox nose had been drawn in marker. Aside from her eyes, nothing of her actual face was visible past the snout.

Everyone was transfixed.

Either she'd grown nine tails since morning, or the outfit was just made with them attached in back. The bushy, golden tails matched the hue of her hair perfectly, and it made her look for all the world like a mischievous, cruel fox spirit. Part of a costume was how much the form fit the wearer, and it was hard to deny that she acted like some trickster from mythology.

Hiyoko bore a paper fan in each hand, one of which went up to cover her mask’s mouth as she walked forward. The sound of her wooden sandals hitting the stage clop-copped loudly, echoing up through the high, drafty, creaky ceiling overhead. She swept the fans around in an arc, and the green paper might as well have glowed in the dim lighting. In fact, it was soon clear they’d been coated with something to make them glow. Hajime followed the motions of her hair and fans, as they formed lighter lines, and occasionally got another look into those eyes at the right angle, as the light glinted off them.

Her movements started out slow, sweeping circles and arcs with the fans. Leading with them and twisting the rest of her body in whatever shape was necessary. They gained intensity as she moved, gradually. It took Hajime minutes to realize she was quickening. Faster grew the tempo, and from the side of the stage, Mahiru's camera clicked dozens of times. The camera's flash was disabled and it made little noise, but in that building, a pin falling to the floor would have gotten it escorted out for rudeness.

Especially if it was a male pin, given Tenko guarding the door and looking none too happy.

Nagito didn't have any of his usual commentary to whisper at Hajime, although part of that could have been his brain moving at half speed thanks to the sake. He watched the show, staring ahead, eyes full of wonder at all the Ultimate talent on display or something. Chiaki, on the other hand, was fast asleep, and never awoke for the duration of the dance. Hajime would worry about retribution, but it was clear he was being held to a standard Hiyoko expected of nobody else on the island, for some reason.

Maybe it was her messed up way of showing affection.

Like her dance, she was incomprehensible to a normal person's perspective. Or Hajime's.

Hiyoko produced a farm tool, a hoe probably. Stepping forward and back, she motioned digging into the stage like it was soil. It looked real, the metal reflected the torchlight, and it sure sounded real. The scraping of metal on wood wasn't too fun to listen to, but nobody was complaining. Hajime didn't have a clue why she was doing that. Was this was some famous, five hundred year old dance that expressed the very core of Japanese heritage and pride?

Hajime never got the answer to that.

Like most young people, he had no clue about traditional dancing, the industry, what sorts of things were common. When he saw a stage like this, he just thought of plays. Hiyoko's motions were sometimes obvious, like running across the stage, swinging those fans. Sometimes, she did incomprehensible things.

Then, with little transition or warning, it was over. She retreated, and Hajime, along with the others, felt compelled to clap. Not out of obligation to Hiyoko herself, as much as her mysterious and intriguing talent. Hiyoko said no words before, during, or after the show. Not even 'thanks for coming, you can leave now'. After an appropriate level of applause, most people just took their own leave.

Ryoma got to his feet, which only increased his height by a little, and still meant he had to look up slightly at a seated Hajime. "Well, that was a thing. See you around, I need to go find what they did with Gonta after the Bug Show. You weren't there for that, right?"

"Ah, yeah, we missed it." Hajime shrugged. "You know how it is, I mean..."

"Smart man." With that, and a wink, the Ultimate Prisoner left. Hajime nudged Chiaki awake in the meantime.

The dance had been the essence of Hiyoko Saionji, the Ultimate Traditional Dancer. Too short. Vaguely unpleasant, and foreboding. Filling all who looked upon it with an ominous feeling about the future. Yet, it was impossible to look away, either. It demanded and commanded the attention of everyone. She moved like a spell had been cast on her and a puppeteer was moving her around. Except nothing was jerky about the movements. It all flowed together, clearly rehearsed a thousand times over.

Hajime's group was among the last to leave, so they saw Mahiru, Hiyoko, and Rantaro walk out together as a group, with Hiyoko between them.

Looking like a very typical nuclear family, actually. Even if Hajime knew the 'nuclear core' of this was a burning white-hot bundle of aggression. Either way, he'd at least heard from Rantaro about what was going on there. Even though he wasn’t against some things, it felt too personal to pry into that matter at all. At least they looked happy.

There was presumably more events going on tonight all over, like Celeste hosting some kind of costume party at her casino. That was a walk and a half, though. They'd already have to hoof it to make it over to Tranquility Beach before the main event kicked off.

So, that's where they headed.

They shared the beachfront with other groups, but it was a big place. They just steered clear of a few small campfires and clusters of Ultimates. Particularly avoiding Junko’s attempts to organize a King’s Game with ‘volunteers’ at various states of having actually volunteered. And various states of dress and undress already.

Hajime was all for friendship, but he’d had enough for one night, thanks.

The three of them just found a quiet spot to call their own, setting out beach chairs, and they could finally get down to enjoying the huge bottle of sake.

At Chiaki’s insistence, Hajime even took a sip. Just one, but man, that was some strong stuff.

Time slipped past.

If what the Ultimates had gathered so far was right, they probably had a lot of memories of going to class together and hanging out that had just been lost. That would at least explain how closely the Ultimates had grown to each other in just a few weeks.

Nagito operated on some kind of sake bell-curve. The first drink hit him a lot, but entire cups could go down and he was fine. Just a bit more weird than his usual level. Which was a lot.

Hajime heard yelling down the beach, but didn't pay it much mind. Drunk people would be loud and stupid. Tonight, it just wasn’t his problem. Really, now that they had actual roles for people, and an actual Security force, Hajime wouldn’t have to feel obligated to be a freaking adult babysitter so much.

At least, that was the hope.

Until that was shattered by a panicking Chihiro running down the beach at her best speed. Slowly, in those wooden sandals.

Part of that wasn’t an uncommon sight on this island. However, it was something that Hajime couldn’t ignore, no matter how often it happened. The Ultimate Programmer, looking breathtakingly cute and adorable in her own green yukata, was having trouble moving around in that getup earlier. It added to the cute factor in that bumbling Mikan way, but it did impact her actual ability to walk. Much less run. Chihiro nearly fell over in her efforts to cross the treacherous sands.

"H-Hajime! Nagito! Please, come quickly! I need your help!"

It wasn't like any guy in this world could refuse an earnest plea from Chihiro Fujisaki, the Programming Angel.

“I won’t even bother asking what the problem is,” Hajime sighed.

 _ **“You son of a bitch!”**_ Yep, that was Mondo.

“Think I’ve got the picture. Nagito, you stay here. I’ll be right back.”

 _“How dare you speak of my dearest mother in such a foul way?!”_ And there was Taka, on cue.

“Huh?” Nagito blinked in surprise. “Why? I want to help, too. So that true hope can blossom among the Ultimates-”

“That’s why,” Hajime snapped, taking off alongside Chihiro, and making sure the cutie, her own face flushed probably from some drinking, didn’t fall over. He yelled over his shoulder, “Take care of Chiaki!”

It didn’t take long to reach Chihiro’s campfire.

Taka and Mondo were going at it.

Not literally, as one might expect from all the unresolved sexual tension. But they were about to come to blows. No, that didn't sound appropriate for a school environment either. Some flesh was seriously about to get pounded.

Okay, they were about to fight each other. Or fuck, right on the beach. Either result was not acceptable.

"Well," Taka declared, loudly because he was drunk, "I for one thought Chihiro's speech about Atua-whatever was fascinating!"

"Ah, bullshit! You just wanted to listen to be nice! Well being nice ain't how the world works, cupcake! You gotta be honest with a girl when she's talking total shit!"

Chihiro winced. "A-As you can hear, Hajime, um. This is kiiinda my fault. I just wanted to talk to them about the benefits of accepting Atua in their lives. And then... M-Mondo pointed out how annoying I was being..."

Hajime rubbed his forehead. "Chihiro, please don't blame yourself. These guys are just spoiling for a reason to fight each other."

Nagito suggested, "Maybe we should just let it happen."

Hajime and Chihiro stared back at him.

"What?"

“Where did you come from, Nagito?!”

"It's possible they just need to get this out of their system. In vino vertias, and all that." How was Nagito busting out Latin while he himself was hammered? Trying to understand him was an exercise in futility. "I'm just saying. They can use this conflict, and then overcome it. Like a stepping stone, to reach an even greater hope!”

Hajime carefully considered this proposal for an entire second. "No, that's wrong. And dumb. Come on, Nagito. Let's break this up. Chihiro, go get Security."

Chihiro hesitated, pointing at the enraged Taka. "Um, he's Security."

"Get a member of Security who took the 'don't get drunk and fight people' part of the job seriously!"

"Poor guy. He’s probably shaken up by his loss, like Byakuya was," Nagito mused. "Well, if you insist on stopping this, Hajime, then I'll insist you let me go over there and reason with them."

"Why?!"

"If Mondo gets violent, it's better for trash like me to get beat up than for a glorious Ultimate, like yourself, to suffer." Why, exactly, did Nagito stare at his hand so much while he was giving these vaguely creepy speeches?

“You’re clearly not going to listen to me, anyway,” Hajime replied. “Go for it. But I’ll be here in case you need any help.”

Nagito’s speeches about hope had a predictable effect on the predictably unpredictable Mondo. In fact, that was the only way you could call the guy ‘reliable’; he’d reliably pop off, like he was one of the fireworks for the upcoming show. To the suggestion that ‘maybe fighting is bad’, Mondo responded by charging forward like a bull, intent on proving Nagito wrong by fighting him.

Before anyone knew what was happening, _Chihiro_ was the one knocked aside, falling over into the sand on her face.

Time stood still.

“Amazing,” Nagito breathed heavily, hugging himself. “Chihiro was so frightened by her ‘big bro’, and yet, to save a lowly worm like me, she still…”

“C-Chi?” Mondo’s face was white. He stared at the girl he’d run over in disbelief.

“Chihiro!?” Taka was at her side as fast as Hajime was, and the two of them were glad to find that she was okay. Well, a sobbing wreck, but she wasn’t hurt. She just got shoved over on accident when she tried to step in between Mondo and his real target.

Why the hell had she done that?! Why was this ‘nobody listens to Hajime’ day?

That was it.

The last little bit of Hajime’s patience tonight was completely worn out, and he was out of fucks to give. Even in the face of such a frightening guy. “Take a good look, Mondo. This where all that macho pride biker bullshit gets you.”

“H-Hey, Chi… are you alright?” Mondo asked. His voice was small. Far smaller than it had ever been. Smaller than it should have been for a big, tough biker gang leader who did whatever he wanted. His demeanor shifted completely, the moment he realized what had happened. “You’re okay, right?”

His code, after all, was well known to everyone on the island by now.

The reasonable part of Hajime said this was obviously just an accident. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to hurt Chihiro, either with his harsh words, and especially not by shoving her. Hajime understood that, but he still wanted to take this incident, sharpen it into a spear, and jab it into Mondo until he really, truly fucking understood that wow, actions have consequences.

It was time to sober up this fucking idiot.

“Listen, Mondo. This is what I always-”

“I know. Goddamnit, man, don’t say it. I know.” Mondo lowered his head, causing that ridiculous corn-cob of hair to cover most of his face. “Shit. You can’t say anything to me that I haven’t said to myself a hundred times, Hajime.”

“Oh, holy shit, you’re being serious.”

Chihiro got to her feet, helped by Taka and Hajime. She demurely brushed off the sand and dirt from her yukata, staring down at the ground. Where Hajime expected more tears, though, there were none. Her eyes were watery, but she’d stopped the waterworks at great personal effort. In fact, from the angle Hajime was looking at, the Ultimate Programmer looked like she was glaring.

As well as shaking, quivering like a leaf.

“Why did you do that?!” Taka demanded, just like an overprotective big brother. “Chihiro, what caused you to-”

“Atua told me.”

All four guys stared at her. Hajime could only echo that back. _“Atua?!”_

“M-Most people have a little voice in the back of their minds. An **inner voice** , that tells them what’s right, and what’s wrong. We learn right and wrong from society, but we also just, kinda, know it on some deep level. I-It’s not a totally logical thing,” Chihiro looked up, eyes full of fire. She gained steam as she went, stuttered less, and sounded more certain. “I used to doubt that anything was beyond logic, but I feel it now. Atua told me how to **remedy** this situation. It wasn’t because I decided it, I just did what Atua suggested, and it worked. Are you ready to calm down, Mondo?”

“Yeah,” He replied. “Chi, girl, I am so fucking sorry. Like, seriously.”

“I was the one who stepped into your way,” She replied. “I’m fine. Look, all of this… we’re all friends, right?”

Mondo sighed. “Yeah. That’s right. Pickin’ a fight with your own friends can be fun, but not when they’re a bunch of nerdy asses like you all. That’s just bein’ low. Damn low. If bro was still here, he’d beat my ass for acting like this just because of some beer.”

In this situation, it was clear who the real strong person was.

Even if the source of her strength was something that the guys wanted to deny, or make fun of, or whatever, there was no denying it.

“I guess that’s progress,” Hajime shrugged. “But you’re right, Chihiro. We’re all friends here. Taka?”

“Of course!” He replied, bellowing forth with his usual enthusiasm, forced. Like Tenko, he was just projecting all that energy he normally found so easy. “I must apologize, for it takes two to tango! As they say on the streets!” Oh good, Taka’s street wisdom, just what they needed-

Apologizing was not something a lot of guys could do. Most people in general didn’t want to face their failures. Instead choosing to just double down, or get defensive. Mondo himself was liable to do that, but this was the one thing that could have broken through that layer of mindless aggression, to get through to the person underneath.

It was a powerful moment, and one Hajime didn’t feel comfortable intruding on any more.

“Come on, Nagito. I don’t think there’s going to be any more trouble over here tonight. Let’s let them be.” Grabbing the bagel-loving boy by the arm, Hajime dragged him off. Nagito didn’t resist.

What a day it was. Hajime would sleep for years tonight.

 _Oh, yeah. Better make sure Chiaki didn’t roll over in her sleep._ Lest the consequences be both dangerous and nasty-

"Hey, hey. Tonight was fun."

Huh.

The boys returned to Chiaki, who was sprawled appealingly out over her beach chair, but very much awake. Looking up at Hajime with those deep, thoughtful purple eyes. Her skin wasn't flushed or red like Nagito's. Aside from sleeping a bit more, she didn't really seem affected.

Which seemed impossible, given just how much she'd drunk back at the Ultimate Cosplayer's lab, and then how much she’d taken out of that sake bottle personally.

How did she do it?

"Yeah," Hajime agreed. "I have to admit. I don't know what I was expecting, and I'm freaking exhausted. We shouldn't do all this stuff everyday. Especially the drinking.” Some people just couldn’t handle it; incidents with Miu and Kaito too harrowing to recount here came to mind. “But once in a while? it's really not so bad."

"No, but really, guys," Nagito said, as seriously as he could manage. "Hope? Is fantastic."

Hajime sighed. "How is it that he has one drink, and he's like that. You have, what, fifteen glasses of Tsumugi's strongest, darkest, most potent ancient stuff. And really, you just seem normal? Chiaki, were you more into partying than I expected?"

"Not really," The Ultimate Gamer sat up, shaking her head. "I just need some more time to figure out how drunk I should be. You know, like it's kind of a delayed effect. In a bit I'll probably be dead."

Hajime couldn’t help a laugh. "Well, then I hope Usami starts soon. So you can go out on a high note."

The PA system kicked to life, and the nearest monitor, hanging from a palm tree, flickered to life with the visage of the rabbit herself. _“Ahem. This is an official announcement. I hope the Ultimate Festival has filled my wonderful students with shining hope. Now, to finish the night, we will be holding a fireworks show in about ten minutes-”_

**Boom.**

_“... Ooor right now! Hahaha! Gotcha… uh, enjoy. Then feel free to return to your cabins and get some rest, since it’s already well past the start of Nighttime… P-Praise Atua… Tomorrow after breakfast w-we’ll meet again to discuss the progress gate, and the new labs… Love Love...”_

For the second time in two weeks, thunder shook Tranquility Beach's peaceful white sands.

Hajime flinched instinctively. His ears rang. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled his lungs.

The darkness of the beach was dispelled every time rockets screamed overhead, bursting with explosive force. Explosions rattled Hajime, and shook the beach chairs. Colorful blasts and flowers of fire bloomed just overhead, casting everyone in a variety of neon glows and hues.

This time, though, it wasn't actual gunfire and bombs going off around them. People weren't frantically scrambling around for their lives. There was no maniacal stuffed mascot trying to kill them.

That memory, of the battle on their very first night here, was just, like other unpleasant thoughts, a distant memory. Hajime overcame it, and breathed easier, as he realized things were different now. It wasn’t like that, and it never would be for any of the Ultimates. They wouldn’t let that happen again, no matter what.

It was just a fireworks show from all sixteen of the Exisals.

This time, not indoors, but fired off outside, which would lead to less deafness and injury.

Good job on that, Usami.

Rainbow-colored explosions filled the starry night sky, each one producing a massive thunderclap. Hajime’s collection of balloons, tied up to his beach chair, swayed in the breeze, and the light struck off their surface, reflecting a hundred new color combinations off their simple rubber surfaces. The stars themselves, already a bit more dim than usual because of all the light pollution, vanished for a moment each time another bright mini-sun was born. They returned as quickly as they left, twinkling merrily to accompany the display.

"Hey, guys," Chiaki wondered, moving over to sit on Hajime's beach chair, and causing the white material to groan audibly. "When was the last time you saw fireworks?"

"Oh, man. Maybe high school. Middle school? I was definitely just a kid back then." Hajime grinned. "Not that I feel that much older or wiser now.”

Nagito settled in on the other side of Hajime. “I definitely remember, uh. That I don’t remember. I’ll just say ‘high school’, my life’s been kind of a blur. Or maybe that’s just the sake.”

As expected. “How about you, Chiaki? Tell me you've at least gone to a festival wherever you grew up."

"Nope." She shook her head, eyes cast towards the heavens. Hajime now saw each explosion as they were reflected in her awestruck gaze. "Not ever. This is my first time seeing fireworks like this in person, instead of in some video game cutscene."

Hajime was more liable to end up staring at her then at the sky, although he couldn't deny that the fireworks gave a familiar, nostalgic feeling. In the midst of a foreign land, among strange people, in a fantastical situation, things like the festival games, stalls selling food, the fireworks display at the end? All too familiar. A little slice of the home they couldn't go back to, yet.

One day, though. One day, they'd go back together.

"What exactly was your home life like? Uh, if you don't mind me asking."

There was no reply, and Hajime quickly realized it was because she'd passed out, leaning on his shoulder and snoring. Welp, there was that delayed impact hitting her like a ton of bricks. Nagito on the other side wasn’t doing much better, eventually just settling against Hajime, the only thing on the beach that wasn’t wildly spinning.

Hajime wouldn’t mind if this moment lasted forever.

Like all good things. of course, it had to end.

The fireworks display tapered off, until the final blasts faded from the sky, leaving the stars to return, and the moon’s light to shine down more consistently on the beach.

"I really hope you can still walk, Nagito," Hajime groaned as he picked Chiaki up on his back, giving her a piggyback ride. He might not have been capable of that two weeks ago, given various considerations. Mostly ones involving his utterly average level of fitness. However, Sakura's generous training, even without the protein she mourned daily, was enough to get him through this.

Chiaki really was about half of Hajime’s height, which only added yet another factor to her cuteness. She was also every bit as warm and soft as she looked. While she slumped against him, Hajime could see that little cartoon bubble rising and falling from her nose.

Luckily, Nagito was still mobile. If anything, he swayed too much, like he was liable to topple over at any moment. His words were a lot more suave than his movements. "I... want to be beside you, sharing all your burdens. Let me help."

Hajime blushed. The idiot probably didn't even realize what he was saying by this point, or what it sounded like. So Hajime wouldn't pay it any mind. "Well, if you can just walk your own butt to the hotel, I'll consider that a win tonight."

"Ah, my greatest challenge. Trash like me can't be allowed to slow down a true Ultimate, though, so I'll fight." It did look a little like he was having a fist-fight with the air, as they walked towards the entrance to the beach, and up the path around the island.

At the ramp leading up, they met Junko's group. The Fashion Alliance, none of whom acted like they were drunk. Despite the fact that Hajime saw all three ladies down impressive amounts, even just with their little drinking contest with Chiaki. Which was a draw. That wasn't all, though; the people they'd roped into their King's Game were there, too. Some even still had their dignity intact and weren’t thrown into despair, which was impressive given Junko had been working on them for what must have been hours.

Sonia, Gundham, and Kazuichi were among them. Another rarity. Especially Kazuichi being with them and just hanging out. He'd apparently recovered from his earlier binge, at least enough to hang out, without stalking or creeping or any of his stupid too-enthusiastic routine. Sonia wasn't, in turn, rejecting his presence or berating him or anything. She, too, didn't seem affected at all by everything she'd had to drink. Gundham was a total wreck, of course. Predictably lightweight, in spite of all his speeches and yelling and ego.

Quite a sight to see the noble princess standing unaffected by what nearly demolished her two friends. Even the Devas were somehow trashed, at risk of falling off their master at any moment.

“Oh my gosh, Sonia! The whole Ultimate Festival thing was, like, an amazing idea!” Junko proclaimed, loud and clear for everyone to hear. Especially Sonia, who demured from the Ultimate Fashionista’s praise. “Right, Mookie? Mookie thinks so, too.” Mukuro nodded.

“It’s easy to think things are great when you win the game.” Rantaro said. “I didn’t even know the King’s Game had winners and losers before tonight.” Mahiru were there as well, holding hands with Hiyoko, who was swinging like a happy kid between the two of them.

Was Hiyoko a happy drunk?

Unfathomable.

She looked like that, but she was as legal to consume unwise volumes of drink as anyone else. Not that Hajime had ever wanted to find out what a drunk Hiyoko was capable of. So far, seemed like the answer to that was ‘smile and laugh’.

Of everything, that was the straw that broke the mental camel’s back. His weirdness buffer was maxed out.

On the walk back to Class 2's Hotel, Hajime came across Shuichi and Kaede, fellow Sober Persons, trying to drag the larger Kaito between them back to his room. It looked awkward, but piggy-back rides were out of the question given he was a grown-ass man. Hajime waved to them, and thought about helping. He had his own hands full with Chiaki, though. The fact that he could use that phrase in complete seriousness proved the night was good.

Kaito didn’t look good, though; his face was turning a noble shade of matching purple. “He’s still alive, right?” Hajime asked.

“Mikan swears he is,” Kaede rolled her eyes. With perfect timing to confirm this, Kaito coughed up a few lungs. “In spite of his own best efforts. I swear, this guy here has a certified death wish.”

Shuichi explained, fiddling with his hat with his free hand, “He got Maki to come out briefly from her cabin, and challenged her to a drinking contest.”

“How’d it go?” Hajime asked, just as Maki walked through the front gates of Class 53’s hotel complex, barely sparing a glance with those piercing red eyes back towards any of them. “Ah, right.”

“Yeah. Demolished. Take care, guys!” Kaede said. “Thanks for helping out with getting everyone to come.”

“Always glad to help,” Nagito wobbled merrily. “As long as it’s for, uh, the sake of, like, hope. Lots and lots of hope.”

“Yeah, have a good one,” Hajime replied, nodding respectfully. They’d had their share of differences on this trip, especially between him and Kaede, but that didn’t get in the way of their friendship. Considering everything they were all up against, they couldn’t afford to do anything but band together. If only all the Ultimates could get that through their skulls.

Hajime wanted to touch base with Makoto, Sayaka, and Kyouko, but the three of them were nowhere to be found. Hina, waiting at the gates of her hotel for a mutual friend, was always down for a bit of friendly gossip. In between shoveling handfuls of donuts down her throat. Note for the future; hungry drunk type. Big time. Well, she was a hungry sober type. So by the standards of Gopher Island, it made perfect logical sense.

She explained that they’d all gone into Makoto’s cabin not long ago.

There were limits to things, Makoto. You bastard.

“Everyone’s so carefree and enjoying themselves,” Nagito sighed. “Seeing the Ultimates united is just the best.”

“You don’t sound like it’s the best,” Hajime replied as they got past the gates of their own hotel.

“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking. Byakuya was right. Nobody’s considering that the traitors are still out there, y’know?”

“We don’t even know that,” Hajime replied.

“We don’t not-know it, either.” Nagito, in his current state, probably thought that was the height of witty retorts. He wasn’t entirely wrong, though.

“Well, we can live our lives in fear, or we can just do what we want, and refuse to give in,” Hajime replied. “Even if a lot of us are still worried, well. The traitors aren’t going to get us to kill each other of paranoia. If they want to ruin things for us, they’ll have to actually try and make a move, and see what happens. We won’t do their job for them.”

“Splendid,” Nagito gushed, his green eyes glassy. “Simply splendid, Hajime!”

They finally got Chiaki to her room. Nagito fished out the Hope Pad from her hoodie, eventually. And swiped it on the ID reader on her door, eventually. Hajime felt every second pressing down on his back. The pleasant, but unwieldy, weight of the Ultimate Gamer pressed down on him like sins crawling on his back.

Hajime deposited Chiaki gently on the bed, covering her with a thin purple blanket. "I hope she sleeps with her clothes on normally," Hajime said, "Because I'm not going there."

"Very noble."

"C'mon, you're about to pass out, too- Whoa!" As if to prove his point, Nagito crumpled over, and might have hit his head on the wall if Hajime wasn't there to hold him. "Careful!"

"Hey, Hajime. Will you listen to what I have to say before we head over to my cabin?"

"Anything you say in this state isn't likely to be very useful," Hajime said, making the great decision to try and reason with the drunk man. Nagito and his logic was incomprehensible enough while sober and aware, much less now. “Or in general.”

"Aw man. I hate that I can tell you’re just putting on some tsundere act. You really are falling for me. Please, Hajime. Remember what I told you about getting close to me, and how you'll just cry tears of despair over it in the end."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"I'm not kidding. Bad follows good, and good follows bad. That's the luck cycle, and it applies to everyone. But especially to me, and my worthless 'talent'." Nagito sighed. "The truth is, bad luck isn't the opposite of good luck, like Chiaki said. They're two sides of the same coin. So if I have Ultimate Good Luck..."

"Then you've got to deal with Ultimate Bad Luck, too? What, like karma? Some great cosmic balance?"

"Something like that. Well, actually, karma makes more sense than luck. It has causes, and effects, like things should. Luck, though, is capricious. It really is ultimate power. The power of a god, probability and chaos. If only I had any control at all over it. If only I could keep it from ruining the lives of everyone close to me..."

Was Nagito really drunk at all? The last time Hajime remembered a drunk person using a word like 'capricious', he'd actually been referring to those little juice packet drinks. Not to mention, he was suddenly having no trouble standing up at all, and his breath didn't reek the same way Chiaki's did. They were close enough for that. Close enough, for, say, the two of them to kiss easily.

If Hajime had been at all interested in that. Besides, if he was plastered, then it wouldn't have been the right thing to do anyhow. No matter how pretty he was.

"So just imagine for a moment that you're on vacation with your family. While you're riding the plane, a terrorist hijacking goes down before your very eyes. Wow, that's amazingly bad luck, right? What are even the odds. But it happens. Further imagine that a meteorite happens to fall at that moment, strike the plane mid-air, and kill the attacker. Sounds impossible, right? Not quite. However, say that meteorite also hit the plane in such a way as to kill two of the other passengers. And those two were your parents. How would that make you feel?"

Hajime sighed. "That's the kind of hypothetical I won't be able to answer."

"What if... it wasn't so hypothetical? Remember what I said last time we talked about this?"

Hajime’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? T-That all actually… happened? It wasn’t just some metaphor?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just yanking your chain, since it's so easy tonight." Nagito grinned, and Hajime let out a sigh.

Oh, so that's how it was. "Alright then, let's go, Kokichi. The least you can do is pass out in your own bed."

“How about _your_ bed instead?~”

“I know for a fact that you hog the covers, just like Ibuki. Denied.”

It was impossible to say how much Chiaki or Nagito would remember. Hajime, buzzed at worst, would remember it all. In fact, the whole day, the Ultimate Festival, would remain burned into his mind as a memory with both fond and annoying elements. Just like most everything here.

Even as the days continued to tick by in this beautiful, mysterious island paradise, he didn’t forget the feeling. Even as the Ultimates fell into routine, and weeks threatened to become months, Hajime wouldn’t forget the times he shared with his friends. Or what they’d told him. If he wouldn’t rest until all the mysteries were solved, he had some work to do on both Chiaki and Nagito.

For once, all the burning questions, the mysteries, the state of the world, the missing memories, that strange man with red eyes and black hair from the Flashback Light... none of it was on his mind except as fleeting thoughts.

He just had to have faith that things would work out. He'd work them out, but that was for later. Now was the time to rest.

Hajime had found a measure of peace in this world, a place to rest his head.

On a very comfortable bed, where he was soon asleep. Out like a light.

**-**

**ACT 1: Trapped by the Ocean Scent**

**END**

**-**

 


	23. 2-1. Old World Order (Shuichi)

The day after their festival, the sun dawned bright and clear over the last refuge of the Ultimates.

With the return of the sun’s warmth, came the reality of their situation.

The fugitives sheltered on Gopher Island from natural and man-made disasters alike. It was where they’d make their stand. Come what may.

The next progress gate was met, easily. The next two islands were unlocked. The time came to explore yet more of this beguiling paradise.

The man they called the Ultimate Detective had to lead the charge.

At least, that’s what Kaede said, to get him to come along with the Council to Fifth Island instead of going with the Black Hats. Angie had a strong grip, though. The Ultimate Artist also leveraged her new followers very effectively. Chihiro and Mikan earnestly asking anything, from any guy, was deadly.

That, and anything that may have happened last night, unclouded by even a drop of sake, was still vividly replaying in Shuichi’s overworked mind. Over and over. Things were a bit awkward with Kaede just then. So he retreated from one danger, right into the very brown arms of another.

He assembled a team to check out Fourth Island.

Kaede’s proposal to forbid individual exploration was rejected by her fellow Councilors, on the basis that it would unduly limit everyone’s freedom. Gundham used five times as many words as that. Junko obviously supported freedom and chaos. Many took this opportunity to go ahead, mostly hunting for their own Ultimate Labs in the eleven new ones. Maki and Kyouko went ahead before the meeting even concluded.

Shuichi dared to point out that this meant anybody could go on and hide clues in their Labs they didn’t want the others to find. Theoretically, of course. Such wishy-washy reasoning only got him a scathing look from Junko that made him retreat.

With the Council, Captain, and all members of Security equipped with message functions on their Hope Pads, the distances separating them felt ever smaller. If there were any problems, Mukuro could dispatch help anywhere on the archipelago. A secret code was now in place, too. If anybody found something they didn’t feel safe reporting over the Hope Pads, something Usami might meddle with, they were to call Shuichi a cuck. Mahiru would come to document things, quietly.

It was just starting to feel like this was a professional investigation, and then that.

“Hey! Tenko!”

“Tenko was merely testing out the code! Don’t get triggered, snowflake.”

Shuichi was not a cuck! He wasn’t a bitch-baby, either! Stop making that face, Tenko!

He joined the Black Hats, and a few other notables. Kokichi Ouma, the prince of lies. With an uncharacteristically messy mop of that purple hair. His wide, childlike eyes were blurry and hazy. Gonta Gokuhara, the most honest man in the world. Who was looking unusually hostile towards all forms of life, red eyes glowing beneath his wide glasses, which were askance on his face. He was normally fluffy, but his hair was practically as big as he was today.

Shuichi himself had also taken liberties. His jacket was halfway undone to reveal a white undershirt. Naturally, the hat was still where it belonged, covering half of his face. The girls had to put more effort into their looks, but were still bedraggled. Angie herself looked just as cheerful as ever.

In spite of what had happened last night.

Their final party member was Leon Kuwata. Who missed out on large parts of the festival in favor of being so drunk he nearly died. It was impressive in many ways that Leon was even able to join the scouting party. In fact, he looked the best of the guys. His spiky red hair was artistically messy rather than just a wreck like everyone else.

As he stood on the threshold of a new land alongside his makeshift team, Shuichi was troubled by four things. Mysteries of the past, enigmas in the present, uncertainty clouding the future, and a headache from his hangover.

That last one should have been quite impossible.

What was impossible back in Japan was just a mild suggestion here.

"Whoa, looks like a town," Leon remarked.

While Second and Third Island were abandoned ruins and overgrowth being slowly cleared away by the Exisals, this was nothing short of a densely-built suburban or rural area. The white plaster sides of houses and other buildings gleamed in the morning sun. Almost as bright as the calm, peaceful sea framing the island to either side of the red wood bridge.

It didn't have the towering spires of a modern city, but compared to everywhere else, this appeared to be actual civilization. It wasn't the kind of place that could have been built in two weeks. Especially if the Exisals had other tasks demanding their time as well, such as the eleven new Ultimate Labs.

There was no way this was just some set built for them anymore. These facilities were clearly, for the most part, here before they woke up. The Ultimate Baseball Star turned towards him. "Yo, Succi. Think there's anyone else here?"

"It's not impossible," Shuichi replied, stroking his chin. "But would Usami really fail to mention something so important in her note?"

While the island's center was a hill covered in endless rows of white, tan, and beige buildings, there was no sign of a light, open door, or open window anywhere. Second Island had a path running through it and landmarks near the sea. The road here wrapped around the coastline. No usable path inland.

"She did no-show another meeting," Angie pointed out. “Reliability down.”

"Let's play 'question for a question'! How's your hangover, darling Shuichi? _Because mine still fucking sucks,"_ Kokichi snarled. He was robbed of his usual smug superiority and cheeky grin. Having to suffer like everyone else changed his tune. Especially since neither of these boys had touched a drop last night during the Ultimate Festival. "Usami told us the next Flashback Light would cure it."

"And make sure we saw the same thing as Kyouko and the others," Chihiro added. Seeing her stand next to Kokichi was funny. They were both tiny, and looking especially miserable. Although Chihiro was the smaller one, since she was a girl. "Basically a total failure, huh?"

It was amazing what happened when you looked at a flashlight the wrong way. Or rather, when the flashlight looked at you the wrong way.

All Shuichi saw, alongside everyone else, were the meteor storms coming to destroy the world.

The amnesiac reports conflicted with each other and were uselessly confusing. Their memories seemed to indicate that all the Ultimates participated in some kind of killing game in the past? Or at least, they'd been threatened with it, like that Monokuma thing did on the first day. Which seemed to confirm Monokuma wasn’t a one-off thing, but rather some kind of rallying symbol for the Ultimate Hunt.

Had Usami rescued the Ultimates from the Hunt, but in the process they lost their memories? Did they abandon their memories of their own accord? Had the Hunt done something to them, or tried to force them to become 'normal' and taken away their talent?

Speculation was useless, especially since Shuichi had personally seen nothing new and only had conflicting second-hand reports. Any detective knew the value of witness testimony wasn't as an infallible record of events. In fact, it was often the least accurate way to determine anything. However, it could often point the way for further research and investigation.

Shame Shuichi had no way to go further. No tools, no memories of his own. Certainly no Ultimate Lab yet. Everyone was eager for their turn to come around. Shuichi was hopeful that he'd get something cool. But how cool would it really be? If it was going to be a reflection of a person's character and talent? He had little of either.

"Hey, Succi, ‘sat English on the sign? What's it say?"

"That's right. You can't read English, Leon?" Shuichi asked.

"Hey, I just coasted through school on, like, athletic stuff. I'm not proud to admit that baseball saved my ass from dropping out. But when you're good, you're good."

It must have been painful. To be so good at a world-class sport that Leon didn't have to actually learn to graduate. Normal athletes still had to keep up their grades, but the rules were different for Ultimates. Given a normal person’s student debt, Shuichi could only imagine what the athletic scholarships at Hope's Peak looked like.

For the first time, he reconsidered the Ultimate Hunt.

Oh well. Either way, the loans wouldn't matter. Either he'd graduated from HPA, and his success in life was a certainty, or, as it turned out, the world ended. In which case his debts weren't a problem anymore. Maybe he was the real winner all along. And Hiro. He wouldn’t have to sell his organs, or somebody else’s.

Not unless he ticked off Fuyuhiko.

"Well, anyway. This is the... **Jabberwock Island General Hospital?** "

No, Mikan was the winner. She vibrated as she looked up at the building. She tightly clasped her bandaged hands together in a reverent pose. “Oh, great Atua, thank you so much for granting us all this incredible gift. Most of all, although I’m the most unworthy, a lowly bitch pig barf, thank you for finally giving me the tools to do my job, and help all the others to the best of my meager ability.”

The supposedly Ace Detective shared yet another Glance of Concern with Tenko.

It couldn’t be helped.

"Jabberwock Island?" Angie chirped, distressingly chipper. "Not Gopher Island?"

"That what sign says," Gloomy Gonta confirmed, adjusting his glasses and squinting against the cruel, bright sunlight. "What it mean?"

"Only one way to find out," Kokichi said. Trying to keep as much distance between himself and the big guy as possible. No doubt because Gonta got a first-class lesson in critical thinking yesterday, care of the little liar.

Calling it "grape juice" was not technically incorrect.

There was still no way to miss the betrayal in Gonta's expression.

They'd had to nearly get a crane set up to move his barely-living massive hung-over body to the meeting. At least now, he'd was up to merely 'suffering’. Like Leon, he'd actually benefited from the absurd mental feedback effect. Whereby instead of some people suffering great hangovers, everyone now had a mild one, even if they hadn’t touched a drop.

Usami took sharing that seriously? Or was she just that blisteringly incompetent?

The building towering before them was a white central complex with many floors worth of windows. An attached parking garage, and ambulances on hot standby. They were emblazoned with the logo of Hope's Peak, and also claimed to be part of the Jabberwock Medical District. Shuichi noted this, in the same place on the notepad that he'd recorded how all three of their hotel complexes were literally identical.

He informed the Council they finally had proper medical facilities, which met with a joyful response.

Shuichi hardly had to tell his team to scope out the place. Mikan ran forward eagerly. "I'll go make sure she's okay~" Angie chimed, running after her, arms out like she was an airplane. Kokichi wasn't one for playing well with others, in spite of his supposed talent, so there he went too.

“Make sure she doesn’t die of an overdose, crazy bitch!” After getting one last barb in, of course.

They checked out the building, while Leon ran ahead, showing off for all the girls as he investigated the massive parking garage. With Tenko hot on his heels. Also showing off for the girls. Which at this point was just Chihiro, really. Who, even though she looked extra-gloomy from her headache, the poor thing, was indeed still struck dumb alongside Shuichi and Gonta.

Watching the two of them, actual athletes, going at it full-blast was spectacular. They really were superhuman, having a foot race that kicked up massive plumes of choking dust throughout each level as they moved up. Shuichi imagined a Hina, who could move that fast on land. Which was terrifying.

Shuichi didn't see who won, but it had to be close.

 _"No other vehicles except those three ambulances on the ground floor!"_ Tenko shouted from the top.

"Thanks for checking it out, guys!" Shuichi yelled back up, causing Gonta and Chihiro to both wince. "Ah, sorry."

"It okay," Gonta lied dourly. "Come on, let's go to big house-pital."

“Maybe Mikan has a shot she could give us,” Chihiro suggested, ignorant of the looming danger of that idea. She would soon learn differently, though. She would learn many things about this world.

Shuichi expected something out of a horror movie. With an ominous lobby and dirty, grimy patient rooms. However, the facility wasn't just modern, it was futuristic. Glass and white ceramics everywhere. Plus a few dozen Usami statues, just to get across what a humble Professor she was. The inside was too bright, given all the reflective surfaces.overhead light strips ran through hallways that had been polished to a mirror sheen. LCD and even holographic displays showed maps of the building, and small drones rolled across the floor, beeping and chittering away.

Chihiro's eyes were glowing with fervor. For Atua? For machinery? Had it all combined into a single mass of enthusiastic faith? "Mikan was right. This place is a gift from Atua." With just Chihiro and Gonta around, Shuichi felt free to react a little more to statements like that. Which earned him a frown. "I'm not just saying that because I'm a tech nerd or a follower of Angie, Shuichi! Medical facilities will benefit us all."

"Hey, Chihiro, um." Gonta rubbed the back of his head. "You talk a lot about Atua, huh."

"Well, of course!" Chihiro chirped, all smiles as she examined a holographic panel. It responded to her touch with a sensor. She made the display dance. Her fingers moved quicker than Shuichi could track. "I mean- Ah, found Angie, Mikan, and... Kiyo? They're all on the third floor near the, uh, drug storage."

That was what Shuichi was worried about. One of the many things. Wait, Kiyo? "He got here before us?"

"Looks like. See?" Indeed, this building was keeping a live map of itself, and all visitors. Shuichi looked around, and spotted security cameras absolutely everywhere. While on the island at large, Usami's coverage was spotty, she was taking no chances with the hospital. At least that part made sense. "I'll summon an elevator to take us right to them."

"Nice work," Shuichi said.

"And while we're waiting for it to get here, I have a question for you, Mister Gonta~" Chihiro said, her hangover temporarily forgotten. "This isn't the first time you've asked about Atua. Are you curious?"

"Gonta is," the giant etymologist confirmed, taking a chance to rest on a reinforced steel bench. "Ah, but Shuichi doesn't like."

"That's true," Chihiro sighed and looked away. "You'd probably tell Gonta to stay far away, huh?"

Shuichi hated to think that he was the reason Chihiro’s beautiful smile died off. "I can't tell people how to live their lives," He replied calmly. "I won't pretend I'm cool with everything going on. But if everything really is okay, who am I to object? The only truth I can reveal for you, Gonta, is that you should follow your conscience."

"Con... science?"

"Do what you actually wanna do," Shuichi explained. "Think for yourself. Just remember what I said about critical thinking. If you do that, you'll be fine."

Thankfully, the elevator arrived. The ride on it was smoother by far than the natural motion of walking, which was a blessing on the three afflicted souls. There was no further small talk. Shuichi may have spared Gonta an elevator pitch, but he felt like a wet blanket.

They emerged right in front of the drug storage area. A warehouse of wonders and dangers. Most of which were still securely locked up, thankfully. Shuichi wanted to take note of the condition of the security here, but he never got the chance. As soon as the doors slid open, he saw a fervently joyful Mikan. Wielding an absurdly oversized needle. Shambling towards them like a woman possessed, and dancing on strings like a puppet.

The next few minutes were unfortunate.

Shuichi had to admit, the headache, along with his dignity, was gone.

Was it worth making those two pure people with him go through such terror? That was a question he could only leave to future historians. Their current history buff had sure loved watching their plight, ‘kukuku’ing along as Angie went ‘nyahaha’, and neither decided to actually ‘help’ when an insane nurse tried to, well.

It was over now, which was the important point.

“You really are the Ultimate Nurse, Mikan,” Shuichi admitted sheepishly. “It’s like I never drank anything. Which I didn’t. I’m right as rain.”

The same girl who would espouse her new faith and defend it vigorously against all comers, and who had just assaulted him in various ways, melted beneath the faintest whiff of positive reinforcement and praise. “I-I-It’s just because Atua has given me the proper tools to work my craft, so he deserves the credit. And Angie, of course. Always Angie…”

Angie beamed at Shuichi, but the Ultimate Detective couldn’t return that affectionate expression after what had happened. Instead, he deflected. “So, Kiyo. You beat us here. I didn’t expect you’d go straight for the hospital.”

Kiyo hugged himself. “My dearest sister was often hospitalized in the past. I grew quite familiar with all the sights and scents of an antiseptic, cold, vast, sprawling hospital. So this feels more like ‘home’ than my cabin.”

“Aw.” Angie took Kiyo’s gloved hand. “I hope your sister is doing better! I can put in a good word for her with the big guy, if you like.”

“That would be… wonderful, Angie,” The mysterious anthropologist replied, and his eyes curved upwards. Given that black leather mask constantly covering the lower half of his face, it was the closest he ever came to smiling. “Yes, she’s doing so much better now. In fact, my plan was to travel abroad in her place, and make a hundred friends for her.”

“Friends all over the world? Like pen pals?” Mikan asked, steepling her fingers happily.

“Something like that, yes. Although of course, now, the Ultimates won’t find one hundred friends in this whole world.”

Shuichi shook his head. “For what it’s worth, I still think that our friends and families back home are okay. This is just a hunch, but if Monokuma wanted to make us feel despair, then I feel like he would have mentioned something as terrible as that.” He shrugged. “It’s pretty thin, but if we have to choose between hope or despair, in the absence of evidence… I’ll trust in hope.”

Angie was over the moon. “That’s it, Shuichi! I knew there was hope for you yet, ehe. I totally agree. In fact, you’ve got people from all over right here, Kiyo! When we get out of here, all the Black Hats could totally be your sister’s friend.”

There she went, making decisions for the group again.

This took the Ultimate Anthropologist by surprise, but he quickly recovered. “That… is a wonderful sentiment, everybody. Thank you. My sister makes friends with girls mostly, she is so shy. However, Shuichi, Gonta… I will accept your good wishes as well. When I see her again, I’ll tell her about you.”

“Well, Gonta not really… member, right? Of Black Hats?”

“I don’t remember ever saying you couldn’t join,” Angie shook her head. “Just that we had to think it over! Shuichi, what do you think?~ Let’s make it official, what better time than now? Gonta can be friends with all of us, and use all that strength for something better than Kokichi’s silliness!”

“Use… strength?” Gonta didn’t have to think about it very long. “Gonta… will do his best for everyone! Gonta will even wear hat, if that’s what Gonta needs to do!”

Shuichi might have wished that Gonta would reconsider, because the Black Hats was looking like Angie’s perfect mill to find new, vulnerable people to recruit, but he couldn’t very well have said that by now. All he could do was give his agreement. “Sure. Welcome aboard, Gonta. At least now, we have more people who refer to themselves in the third person.”

_“Kukuku.”_

As if he had a radar to detect hope and crush it, Kokichi arrived from down the mirror-sheen polished sci-fi hallways. His footsteps echoed in the eerily still facility, heralding his return long before he turned the corner. “Gonta, you miiiight wanna hold off on that. Or at least read the fine print before you sign any contracts with Angie. You might wake up without your blood one day!”

Against his words, both Chihiro and Mikan physically moved to block Kokichi from Angie, frowning. Angie herself didn’t permit her smile to waver. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t get too badly lost in here, Kokichi! Did you find anything interesting?”

“Only a bunch of saps who need to learn how to think for their own damn selves.” Ah, right. He hadn’t felt Mikan’s long, thick needle, penetrating him yet, so Kokichi was still all wound up. Far more aggressive than his usual. He was always insulting, but now he didn’t even bother to try and pretend we were all having a fun happy time. “My darling Shuichi knows what I’m talking about, right? Isn’t this all just a bunch of crap?”

Oh good, put him on the spot.

“Well, I…”

“Shuichi.” Chihiro frowned. “Do you… hate Angie now? Do you hate us for telling Angie about your investigation last night? Is that it?”

“I wouldn’t say anything like-”

“Of course he’d hate you all!” Kokichi raised his voice. “He’s just trying to protect you from dangerous people!”

“Like you?” Kiyo wondered, bemused.

“Yeah, like me! And how do you repay that? How do you repay him protecting you when you were at your weakest, and most vulnerable?”

“Like when you tried to harass Mikan and Chihiro on the beach?” Kiyo asked.

“Yeah, like when I bothered you girls! Back when nobody else would so much as look at you, because they were either creeped out or afraid you’d break into a million tiny pieces!”

“Guys…” Shuichi was getting swept up in the tide. The worst part was that he couldn’t necessarily disagree with what Kokichi was actually saying. Everyone did need to stop, and think things through more clearly.

“Gonta won’t listen to Kokichi no more,” Gonta declared. “So take your lying lies Kokichi, and, uh. Go lie somewhere else!”

“Oh, nice one, Gonta. Did it take you all week to come up with that… huh?”

A pair of arms wrapped around Kokichi’s waist.

_**“Hiiiyah!”** _

Tenko, coming in from behind, executed a textbook German Suplex. It was the simplest of battle throws; she hugged him from behind for a second, then fell backwards, releasing. With all the considerable power in her body. She sent Kokichi flying in an arc that sent him crashing, head-first, into that spotless reflective white floor. In fact, with the sheer force exerted by her legs as she snapped him up and down, Kokichi looked like he’d been broken in half. He was never the most solidly-built boy. As Tenko released him, stood back up, and brushed herself off, he screamed in pain, writhing on the floor.

“God damnit! Fucking bitch!”

“Tenko heard every word of your foolishness, male. Don’t think that Tenko will let you keep running your mouth, especially not at all her friends. E-Even Shuichi, and Gonta, too.”

Mikan rushed to Kokichi’s side and made sure he wasn’t actually folded in half, or suffering from a concussion, as he sniffled on the ground. No. Luckily, in spite of what it looked like, Tenko must have been holding back somewhat. His head was still attached, and hadn’t been caved in like a melon.

“In fact! Tenko has made up her mind! She’s not going to run away anymore! Angie, Tenko will become Atua’s Champion!”

Any natural nursing concern Mikan may have felt for Kokichi melted. She looked up at Tenko in awe, reaching out and grabbing Tenko’s hand tightly with her own. Which provoked a wave of blushing from both girls. “Oh, Tenko…”

Angie grinned. “Excellent, Tenko! Truly well-said, and well-done.”

“Y-You…. Tenko… Shuichi… even Gonta! You’re supposed to be protecting people from cruel violence!” It was always hard to tell if they were crocodile tears or real one with Kokichi, although he must have been in an incredible amount of pain. The fact that he wasn’t incoherently screaming was, itself, impressive. “Not sitting by while it happens, or doing it to poor, innocent boys!”

“Tenko doesn’t attack innocent boys,” Tenko corrected. “Tenko also don’t attack unicorns, fairies, or yuki-onna! …. Is what Tenko would say in the past. However...” She peered down at Kokichi, shaking her head. “Tenko may have gone a bit too far. Especially since…”

“Oh, god damnit. That stupid reading thing! Is that why you threw me?!” Kokichi scrambled up to his feet, away from Mikan, who was still trying to give him a concussion test. He was a little wobbly, but he stood fine, glowing up at Tenko. There was still a significant difference in both height and build. “What a horrible person you are! Fucking psycho! You’ll all regret this!”

“I dunno, it felt pretty good for me,” Angie said. “Look. I’ll tell you what we told Hiyoko a while back, Kokichi. Don’t mess with us, okay?”

“What? Why the hell shouldn’t I mess with anyone that I please?!”

“Because if you do… you’ll get punished.” Angie stepped forward, and Kokichi stepped back. Angie kept moving forward, eyes fixed on her target. “Whether Atua sends a thunderbolt, a storm, a robot, or Tenko’s fists, it’s all the same result, right? So let’s just go our separate ways.”

Kokichi was manic by that point. “Shuichi! You never answered me! Come on! This has to be too far. Mikan! Are you really fine with this? Gonta! I thought we were friends!”

What a pitiful display.

Shuichi hadn’t done a thing as things spiralled completely out of control. He was supposed to be leading this bunch? He moved in front of everybody, holding out his arms. “Shuichi?” Chihiro said. “Are you…?”

“It’s over.”

“Shuichi, what you mean?” Gonta asked.

“I said it’s over. Kokichi. There’s no rule against exploring by yourself. I agreed to take you along because I was hoping you’d grow up and stop causing trouble. All you’ve done is make trouble, as usual. I’m going to execute my duty as a member of Security, and prevent further violence. So buzz off.”

To everyone’s astonishment, Kokichi, eyes ominously hooded and head down, just nodded at him, and then went over to the elevators and left without one word.

“Right on, Shuichi. Bravo. You really do know who your friends are.” Angie clapped, and the reached out to pat him on the back. Shuichi stood back, though.

“You wanted this to happen.”

“Huuuh?”

“Yesterday, you told Kaede that you have no doubt. That you’re always certain. Is that really the truth? Do you think it’s alright to do any horrible thing, as long as you have conviction? As long as you believe strongly enough that you’re justified, then anything goes?!” Shuichi’s voice was thick with the disgust he’d been holding in. “I can’t forgive that. I won’t be a part of this any longer.”

“Shuichi,” Angie sighed, speaking in exasperation, as she might to a disboedient child. “You know what you’re saying, right? You know what this means? Atua gave you a second chance yesterday. Angie repaid your betrayal with forgiveness. But now you’re saying you won’t forgive me? Is that really the smart move?”

“It’s the only smart thing I’ve done today. You’re right. I know exactly who my friends really are.” The ones who tried to get him back on his own two feet in their own way, or reached out to him, or tried to get him to move forward. Or just stood beside him like he mattered. Him, Shuichi Saihara, the man beneath the hat. Like he meant something, past just his half-baked talent or what he could provide to others. “And as for you three. Gonta, Mikan, Chihiro. Let me just say this.”

All three of them were fragile souls. So gentle that even rebuking them was more than Shuichi could take, even while blowing up. It was pathetic that he still had lines he wouldn’t cross even while he was letting go of all the built-up pressure. He didn’t really take issue with them, though. So he left it with a simple, “Make sure you don’t have any regrets or doubts. Angie won’t, so you shouldn’t bother with them either. No matter what terrible things happen.”

“Shuichi….” Mikan whimpered.

Tenko grumbled. “Shuichi! If you make Mikan cry, you’re the one who’ll need forgiveness- Gonta, move!”

Gonta placed himself between Tenko and Shuichi, face stern. “No more fighting, Tenko. Gonta knows that friends shouldn’t fight.”

“Tenko wasn’t going to do anything-”

“That reminds me. _Tenko, you moron!”_

Tenko’s wacky face of surprise would have been amusing in other circumstances. “What?”

“Apologizing for something, or feeling bad about it, doesn’t make it better. You’re still just doing whatever the hell you like. If that armband’s just for show, then give it back to Mukuro.”

_“Ggggh…”_

“Kokichi is a jerk, but he’s not wrong. Something doesn’t become less true just because an enemy said it.” He sighed. “Forget this. If you were going to listen to me, that would have started two weeks ago.”

The only thing stopping him from walking away was a tug on his arm. He expected to see Tenko, about to give him a ride to the floor, too. Instead, it was Mikan, frenzied and desperate.

“Shuichi! P-p-please wait!”

“Let go, Mikan.” Shuichi tried to pull away, but there was no way to free himself from that kind of vice grip. He’d always known the Ultimate Nurse was strong, but even when he leaned back against her to try to push her back, she didn’t even budge. All he accomplished was pressing into a lot of very soft woman. “Nngh.”

“W-We exchanged morning greetings without you getting annoyed at me.” Mikan sobbed. “When I apologize too much, you forgive me for it, Shuichi. You permit me to spend time in the same place and selfishly imagine we’re friends. Y-You even put up with me trying to start lame conversations when I forget the five thousand topics I try to memorize. You forgave that I existed, when nobody else could. Y-Y-Y-You won’t forgive me anymore?”

“I don’t have a problem with you, but I can’t stay here. I can’t be here anymore, Mikan. I can’t be a part of this. Let. Go. You’re hurting me.”

“W-W-W-When I fall over because I’m a clumsy, stupid, dumb pig shit, you help me up. I-In fact, I know you started clearing out rooms so I wouldn’t have things to trip on. You knew, um, that maybe the tripping is a little bit d-deliberate to maybe get attention…?”

“That wasn’t hard to figure out,” Shuichi replied, now drained of emotion. Exploding wasn’t something he made a habit of doing, and he was genuinely, truly, down to his bones, just exhausted. “Extension cords don’t wrap themselves around you ‘on accident’, Mikan. Not three times in a row.”

“I did that all my life because I always thought th-that any attention was better than being ignored! Because my existence had no meaning if somebody didn’t acknowledge me. You and Angie showed me that there’s another way! T-That even a lowly wretch could be saved! Now, you won’t forgive me, or Angie?”

“Stop it.”

“She’ll do anything, you know.” Angie was now over Shuichi’s other shoulder, reaching out to pat Mikan on the head. “And you do know what I mean, Shuichi. You’re a super clever boy. It would be really handy to have the Ultimate Detective by my side. Even with everything that’s been said. So, if it will make you reconsider…”

“T-that’s right!” Mikan nodded vigorously. “I know what men want, and what keeps them… interested…”

Tenko was appalled. “Mikan! You’ve had to…?”

“It’s impossible to hide the way you look at all of us, Shuichi,” Angie grinned. “Not to mention, it’ll help with the next progress gate. That’s what Kaede wants, right? With a little faith in Atua, who knows how much love you might get in return-”

“Enough!” Shuichi squeezed his eyes shut, despondent. “Please. Just let me leave, before I hear any more.” Shuichi was going to be sick again. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand why everybody was acting like this, was behaving so oddly. He knew perfectly well. He knew all too much. He understood. He wasn’t going mad, this situation was mad. His reaction was the healthy one. He could see the way things were going, and every word out of anyone’s mouth just painted the portrait all the stronger. The picture of where things were headed. Angie held the brush, and applied layer, after layer, with all the skill she would use to mold a canvas to her will.

All he could do was get out while he could.

Maybe it wasn’t the bravest plan in the world. Maybe somebody who was strong would have stayed, and tried to change things from the inside, or save his friends. Shuichi was neither brave, nor strong. All he could do was get out of the way, and get back to the friends who weren’t on a crash-course with disaster.

Uncovering the truth was all he was good for. A talent that just hurt people in the end. It wouldn’t matter here, either. The truth was only true when it was acknowledged. If somebody decided the truth didn’t matter, there was nothing for Shuichi to do. Angie was clearly going to keep going, no matter what anyone said to her.

He opened his eyes, gazing at the floor. A smile graced his face, but not one of joy. One of giving up. “Mikan, you don’t need anyone. You’ll be okay. You’re already getting better than you were-”

_“If you won’t forgive me, if you don’t stay, then I’ll… I’ll…”_

Shuichi didn’t exactly see what happened next. There was shouting, followed by a flurry of activity. He was tossed to the ground, yanked down by Mikan’s hold on him as she was tackled. It was like a bomb had gone off in the middle of the hallway. Everyone fell, like bowling pins. There was no explosion, though. Just noise and shouting and movement and abject confusion.

Until Shuichi caught sight of something that Mikan, now held tightly in Angie’s arms, had dropped on the floor. It gleamed in the soulless bright fluorescent lighting. Another needle, full of a liquid of a very different color than what she’d used to cure the hangover.

His blood ran cold.

What was in that syringe?

Chihiro scrambled to grab it and dump it in the storage area, locking it behind her, moving with surprising quickness.

Angie shook her head. “Shuichi’s right, it’s over. Come here, Mikan. Now, now. Atua will forgive you, even if Shuichi can’t.” She sighed. “Shuichi, if you’re going, then go.”

Yeah. As if he needed one final cue to get out, that was an excellent one.

“Oh, just one thing. We don’t have to mention what happened here to anyone else, right?” Angie called after him. “It would just create more problems for everyone, Shuichi. It wouldn’t help anything. It wouldn’t serve any purpose. Something you’re quite familiar with hm? After _that_ case, you learned that sometimes, the truth shouldn’t be the truth, hmmm?”

How did she _know?_

Shuichi was quite certain he’d only told that story to a single person on this island. He strongly doubted Kaede and Angie were sharing personal tales every night in sleepovers. Either Angie paid attention to foreign news reports, from years back, or…

Or Atua-

Or she was just good at cold reading him, and trying to trick him and toy with his emotions.

That’s fine. I’ll reveal the ‘truth’ you want to hear, Angie. Whether or not I mean it. That’s only fair, right? “We’ll part ways here. Kaede doesn’t have to hear any of this, as long as nobody else is harmed. Can you promise me at least that much, Angie?”

“Absolutely. It stops here, so there won’t be any more incidents like that. Right, Mikan?”

“R-R-Right. Um… I’m sorry, Shuichi…”

“This is going to make breakfast awkward,” Kiyo mused. Oh, right, he was there the entire time. Watching things disintegrate, break apart, and explode before his twinkling eyes. He looked more pleased than when everyone promised to become his sister’s friend. Well, he was getting a front-row seat to yet another ‘beautiful’ aspect of humanity.

Shuichi didn’t see the beauty. But it was clear that judging others by your own standards led to dangerous outcomes, just like Togami said. Shuichi had grown careless and complacent. He’d forgotten how thin the line was.

The line separating hope from despair.

Mercifully, the doors on the elevator slid shut. Shuichi could slump to the floor, leaning against the wall.

He was such a fool.

Shuichi found his way back to the lobby, and he took a seat on one of the endless rows of chairs, head in his hands, despondent.

Blowing up like that might have felt satisfying in the moment. Throwing a tantrum. Forcing others to acknowledge all the stress he had been put under. However, it achieved nothing. Except that he'd just burned some bridges.

The recon mission could be considered something of a failure at this point, at least for him. Once he'd gathered himself, he decided to slip back across the bridges to Hotel 53, and maybe just hole up in his room for a while to cool off. And hide. However he might have felt, whatever feelings remained, the logical side of his brain told him to never again get within arm's reach of Mikan Tsumiki. Not now that she had an entire hospital's worth of chemicals to work with, severe, crippling emotional issues, a new convert's zealous fervor...

And he'd just ‘betrayed her’.

Stupendous.

He pulled the hat so low, he could barely read the front cover of the magazines piled around the lobby. There she was, though. Very striking with the pink hair and powerful, entrancing light-blue eyes. Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, one of the newly-elected leaders of the Ultimates, grinned up at him.

The cover claimed this edition was from June of 2080. Nice job on the editing, there, Vogue. Especially since all the articles were dated, more correctly, from 2025. The actual year it was.

Well, assuming his memory of that was accurate. Which it almost certainly wasn't, given what they'd uncovered. So this issue was from the year Shuichi enrolled in Hope's Peak as a freshman, but was now probably outdated. Given world events, it was no surprise. Not that he'd notice if ‘this month's fashions’ weren't valid anymore.

At least brooding over this gave him something else to think about, to try and cool his head off. So he took another magazine, checked the inside cover, and saw 'June 14, 2080.' there, too. All the other dates in it were from ‘25, though, as could be expected. A few from ‘24 with the older issues.  
  
Yet each also had, somewhere, a single date that was fifty-five years too high to be accurate.

Each one of them had that same printing error. Every single one. He tore through magazine after magazine throughout the lobby. There wasn’t one variance from this formula.

What could it mean-

"Hey, Shuichi! What's going on? You guys have been in there a while."

The two-bit detective looked up from his pile of magazines, and recognized the voice immediately. Well, it was a voice very similar to his own, something their friends had made a lot of jokes about, given how different they were as people. They were the red oni and the blue oni. "Leon. Uh." How to even try and explain the situation? "We're going to be splitting up to explore things from here on, sorry."

The frequency with which Shuichi thought it necessary to lie, and the ease with which he did it, were both going up. Like the other negative trends lately, he knew it, and knew not how to reverse it or remedy the situation.

"Huh? What gives? Didn't we just group up?" Shuichi was still mentally grasping for some excuse when Leon shook his head in understanding. "Nevermind. I can tell stuff's going down. It's fine anyhow, since it means I won't have to walk around with that Kokichi guy. Fucking liars, always the worst sort."

_No arguments here._

Shuichi was hoping that was the end of it, but Leon persisted in trying to talk with him. "Leon, I don't really-"

"C'mon, man. I can tell not just that there's trouble, but that you could really do with taking a break. And maybe getting a drink. Luckily, I happen to have spotted any man’s fantasy. An ideal spot to unwind and have fun! From the top of the parking garage. It's down the road, and I think you'll fuckin' love it!"

A man’s… fantasy?

Shuichi really wasn't in the mood for such things, or exploring in general. However, he was out of gas, running on empty, his brain was fumes. He had no way to resist Leon dragging him along,. Mercifully, there was no small talk as they made their way down the road.

Shuichi spared a single glance back over his shoulder at the hospital.

It was a good thing for the whole island. The Ultimates could sleep better at night, knowing there were proper medical facilities here for them. It was a critical part of forming a long-term community out here. Everyone talked about what they were going to do afterwards. But there was no concrete plan to do anything about the Hunt, except hide and wait it out. Which could take years.

He worked up the energy to tap out a second message confirming the hospital’s facilities on his Hope Pad, and was surprised when, moments later, he received a message from Kaede.

_"That's great, Shuichi! Oh, and I've got something, too. Hope you're ready, because they found your Ultimate Lab! An entire police crime lab! Or something. I know as much about investigating as you know about playing piano, but hey. Maybe once we both have labs, we can fix that together! :)"_

Even her message was bright and energetic. Shuichi couldn't help another mockery of a smile. "They found my lab, huh."

'Oh, man! Awesome, Succi!” Back to the ‘endearing nicknames’, huh? “I knew Usami couldn't hold out on you for much longer. You’re special, man. Nearly as important as me!" Leon clenched his fists in excitement, wearing an intense expression from excitement. "Should we head on over to check it out?"

Shuichi wanted to see what his Lab was like, intellectually. If nothing else, there would be nobody better suited to investigating it. However, at the moment, all Shuichi could feel was a gaping void where the feelings he 'should' have were. Much like the academy memories that were still missing, it was just a bit of himself he could feel. An awareness that 'oh, something should be here', but also the feeling of the yawning void. It swallowed up fear, anger, joy, energy, everything.

He was just returning to a median ‘bluh’ mood, like he often had... before he came to the island. All those familiar feelings were chasing after him, and gaining fast.

"Not yet. There will be time later. We still have a job to do here. Let's check out the... uh. **Titty Typhoon**?"

"No way, _that's_ what that says? I gotta memorize that.” Leon grinned. “Uh, for reasons."

The only time Shuichi was compelled to spend in establishments with "titty" in the name were when they became crime scenes. Not murder, of course. Nothing so dramatic. Lots of petty crimes and relationship troubles could happen in a strip joint. Shocking.

At least he had somebody here who had more experience with those sorts of places. Leon was eager to lead the way, locking onto the shady, run-down music venue like a redheaded seeker missile.

The (sigh) Titty Typhoon had an old brickwork layout, like any western-style establishment. It showed evidence of being built a long time ago, and had suffered significant degradation. It was grimy, and lacked the cleaning evident in other parts of the island. Derelict was a good word for it, although all the gaudy neon signs promising female flesh worked.

It was fortunate that Kirumi, or Tenko, weren't present. They'd both want to set fire to this place, albeit for entirely different reasons.

Inside, open flames crackled on torches overhead, and a roaring fireplace was going. In spite of the fact that something on Gopher Island didn't need to get any warmer.

Shuichi tried his best, through ethical investigation, to find out what the purpose of this building was. He definitely wasn’t just running away from his problems in one of the oldest ways ever known to man. Really, though. Why had it been unlocked for the Ultimates? What was the meaning behind it, if anything? What was the point? Were more hidden clues seeded around, like the magazine? This was why Shuichi was leading one of the recon teams; he'd found clues in the past in the buildings, so now every building had to be gone over meticulously.

Especially this one. Just in case.

If he was good for little else, Shuichi could at least do the menial grunt-work of a detective. While he worked, everyone else had a good time hanging out at the plentifully-stocked bar, where Tsumugi was already working her magic.

Hearing about Mikan's discovery, that you could drink and avoid the hangover with just a few pills and shots, had quite the effect on certain members of the crew.

Wasn’t that right, Leon?

Not that he wasn't happy to sit at the bar either way and try to chat up Tsumugi. Which was quite a sight to behold out of the corner of Shuichi's eye. The Ultimate Cosplayer’s previously-stated position on 'normies' was that they could backflip onto a landmine and explode. Leon didn't seem like an average guy in many ways, but his behavior was dead on. Typical college boy pick-up lines, more stale and aging than the building around them.

Tsumugi and Shuichi were on cordial terms, on the other hand. Both being awkward nerds with blue hair, they resonated on some level, even exchanging friendly greetings. He didn’t understand what she meant when she said ‘this room is like hearing double’, but that was okay. She made a lot of references he didn’t understand.

Fortunately, along with a rampaging pair of Ibuki and Miu that Shuichi, in his present state, avoided at any cost, Sayaka also showed up to check it out. Naturally, any musical performer who heard about a ‘music venue’ would want to come, even if the result was… not quite as imagined.

The sight of the flawless Sayaka Maizono, nationally famous idol, in what could only be described as a seedy club was surreal. Like an angel had descended into Hell. "Amazing, Shuichi! Just by looking at the dust patterns in this supply closet, you can tell that nobody has used it?"

"I can make an educated guess," Shuichi replied sheepishly, hiding behind his hat. Standing next to Sayaka was like basking in the bright rays of the sun. She always had a smile in any situation, and she was so bubbly and positive. Like Kaede, though, he knew just enough to understand that it was an act, a performance in its own right. “It means nobody has been in here for very long, but it also means the Exials must not have felt the need to renovate this building. I guess the outside would tell any amateur that, huh.”

"Even so, you're still doing stuff nobody else on the island could do." Kyouko would find that an interesting statement. "I just wanted to let you know how much everyone appreciates your work, Shuichi."

Shuichi never usually felt things like pride, but having somebody hold him up right then, when he felt like dirt, like he’d betrayed his friends, was too much. He felt his eyes sting and had to blink away tears, looking away. "I'm just doing what little I can," He said lamely.

“Tsk, tsk.” Sayaka went over to the door leading back out to the music venue, closed it, and clicked the lock closed.

“Sayaka?” Shuichi asked, confused.

“So, the Black Hats have exploded, huh?”

Shuichi stared at her. “How?”

"Did you forget already?" Sayaka looked him dead-on, her winning smile never wavering. "I'm psychic."

A beat, as defined in comedic circles as the perfect unit of timing for a joke, passed between them.

"After what's happened, I'm not willing to discount that possibility," Shuichi admitted.

Sayaka sighed. "No, you should discount it right away. I'm just good at reading nervous boys who try to take on too many things by themselves. And who probably have a few secrets they're trying to keep from various people."

"That may be accurate," Shuichi said. "Uh, it's probably about time for us to move on."

“No way! Tell me what’s going on, so I can maybe help.”

“Help? There’s no real, um, helping this one.”

“Try me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Alright, if she wanted to hear a bunch of dumb drama, why not. Shuichi sat on one of the dusty storage crates, and recounted the story of the Black Hats’ growing… development? Corruption? What was the word for what was happening? He hadn’t been able to see it coming, in spite of all his supposed intelligence. He couldn’t prevent it, in spite of the cunning one expected out of the Ultimate Detective. He didn’t even have the loyalty to stick around, come hell or high water, and try to support his friends as they went down the wrong path.

Sayaka tapped her chin. “You should tell Kaede all this. Have a real conversation about yesterday, and about Angie and the Black Hats. And make sure to tell her the parts you’re leaving out.” Her tone didn’t suggest this offended her, but she did sound a little bemused.

He hadn’t mentioned the syringe, or a few other details, in fact. “How-”

“When you lie to Kokichi, does it work?”

“Never.” Shuichi shook his head. “I think I get the point. I don’t know if I would ever compare you two, though. He’s just… malicious. A liar, in fact. Nothing like the Ultimate Idol.”

“Aww. You’re so sweet, Shuichi. Thank you.”

“Um, I’m sorry to just talk your ear off like this, Sayaka. It’s just something I’ve got to handle, at the end of the day. It’s my responsibility.”

Sayaka shook her head. “We might be on an island, but nobody is an actual island, Shuichi. We need to hang out more! I’m gonna make you take breaks, chill out, and tell me everything.”

“I don’t know if I can talk about everything,” He said. “I mean, there are a few things…”

“No, I totally understand. And anything you do tell me?” She zipped her lips, smiling like a fox spirit, then pressed an excellently-manicured, rounded blue fingernail to her lip. “I’m very good at keeping secrets myself, you know. Show business.” No doubt. Shuichi couldn’t imagine what went on in that high-stakes world, a world she’d swam in since high school at the very least.

“E-Even so, if you’ve got things you need to get off your own chest, then feel free to tell me, too,” Shuichi offered. “When we first met in those ruins, I was so scared out of my wits.”

“I recall,” Sayaka nodded, giggling. “ _‘A-A-Are you with them?!’_ Who was _them_ , anyway?”

“The terrorists? Whoever I thought had kidnapped us? But you made me stop, take a deep breath, and actually use this thing.” He tapped the side of his head. “And realize you were just as scared, even if you’re way better at putting on a mask. You and Kaede have both been… really too kind to me. More than I deserve. I’m indebted to a lot of people.”

“I’ll agree to everything but that last bit,” Sayaka said, unlocking the door. “There, that should be long enough to start a rumor~”

Shuichi’s face was very red as he hastily buttoned up his coat just in case, and emerged. He went straight for the bar and ordered up something. Not too strong, but certainly something with enough kick to loosen him up. Leon roared his approval, and matched that order to an exasperated Tsumugi. Sayaka settled into a seat beside the boys, and took something non-alcoholic, taking dainty sips compared to Leon’s frat-boy chugging.

Shuichi already got enough smart comments about being ‘so girly’, so he tried to match Leon’s pace with his sake. He soon came to regret it. At least later he could slink back into the hospital, hopefully avoid any errant Atua worshippers, and cure the effects.

This time, he was going to earn his own pain.

Remembering with Sayaka helped, like relieving pressure off a long-suffering steam valve. Drinking with Leon to forget his troubles for just a bit was no long term solution, but he could unclench for the first time in actual days. Ever since, without a doubt, the moment he’d investigated Touko’s lab. That was a good example of something he couldn’t let out, no matter how plastered he might want to get, how loose his soft lips would get.

He didn’t have time to really unwind, though, before his Hope Pad started going nuts, vibrating and chiming.

"Oh, come _on_. I thought I turned the notifications off on this thing." Apparently, if something was important enough, the pad didn't care. This one met that condition, as he saw. His grey eyes widened as he read over the simple, terse message.

**"Level 1 Alert. All Security Report To Attached Coordinates ASAP. This Is Not A Drill."**

When the Ultimate Soldier, Mukuro Ikusaba, sent a message like that, there was no time to hesitate. With an apology to Sayaka and Leon, and a promise to hang out later, he took off for Fifth Island at a slightly shaky sprint.

Shuichi’s heart raced as a thousand possibilities ran through his mind.

The real answer, the first of several escalating incidents over the coming weeks, was like the distant rumble of thunder.

A harbinger of the storm gathering to strike Gopher Island.

This time, the danger wouldn't come from outside sources, but, as Byakuya said on their very first night here, from themselves.

Their newly-forged society was about to get its trial by fire.

 **-**  
**ACT 2:** **A BLOOD-SOAKED PARADISE**  
**-**


	24. 2-2. New World Order (Makoto)

“Rejoice, Makoto. I will permit you to accompany me. Now, to Fourth Island, without delay.”

“Y-Y-You’d better understand what an honor it is for Master to let you tag along, ingrate!”

“I don’t recall ever allowing _you_ to follow, Touko! Take a bath!”

“Greetings, Master Naegi. Please let me know if there is any way in which I might serve you.”

“Uh, sure, but just call me Makoto, remember?” Thus began the nightmare for Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student.

Kyouko was probably off checking for new Ultimate Labs on Fifth Island. That sounded like fun. Makoto could guess what her talent was, but it would be nice to have that confirmed. If nothing else, Kyouko needed the closure.

Everyone would put a whole lot more stock in Kyouko and trust, even rely, on her. As much as it sucked, having certain talents made people automatically trust you. While other talents made people seem more shady. Or like Fuyuhiko, who seemed frightening, and actually was.

Maybe judging like that was too harsh. After the latest flashback light, people were shaken up. Makoto had a hard time even breathing, and his heart raced as he remembered the global cataclysm. He was an emotional guy, though. Kyouko looked just as bad, if not worse. Her normal calm was shattered that day, for just a bit. She’d been as purple as her hair. Her eyes were dilated, and the thin, tight line of her mouth had been screwed up in panic and worry.

So she could use some good news.

Sayaka pledged to stick by Makoto, but she was carried away by her friends. It turned out that the Ultimate Idol was something of a social butterfly, wow. Many objected to Makoto ‘hogging’ her. As if _he_ was the aggressive one!

Something last night disproved.

Maybe Junko was right about him and aggressive women.

“She… said earlier that we’d meet at the ‘music venue’, but…”

Titty Typhoon? What in the hell?

“Makoto, are you and Maizono joined at the hip?” Byakuya’s gaze and tone were scalding. “Or do you have a mind of your own in there somewhere?”

Thus, Makoto was volunteered for exploring the rest of Fourth Island, alongside Togami, Touko, and Kirumi. After a stop-in at the hospital to get the cure, of course. Even if the traumatic memory of Mikan’s massive needle wouldn’t leave anytime soon. It could just go on Makoto’s slowly growing Trauma Pile with the rest.

Right next to Komaeda putting a knife in this face.

Where was that guy? During these times, with uncharted territory to explore, Komaeda was more dangerous than ever. He could take action while everyone was split up. Or do something like destroying evidence. Or break in somewhere. All Makoto could hope was that Sayaka or Kyouko found Komaeda and tailed him. Or that Makoto ran into the guy himself.

That was a new one. ‘I hope I encounter Nagito Komaeda today’.

The first landmark of interest came when they found a street that wasn't blocked off. It led further into town, up the hill. Scrap-metal signs overhead proclaimed that this place was Electric Avenue. It was filled with abandoned electronics shops of all descriptions. There was still nobody else but the Ultimates in this ghost town, though. A fact that was slowly creeping up and unsettling Makoto more and more, the more they explored.

“Hey, guys. This place… people live here, right? Or, they should. So, where did everybody go?”

Only silence met Makoto’s question, until Byakuya eventually spoke up. “It’s pointless to speculate until we’ve covered the whole island. Move your legs, not your mouth.”

This particular alley had a lot of character to it. A life of its own. Thanks to the tech wizards who’d found their way here ahead of Byakuya’s party.

Miu and Kazuichi found Mecca. Or maybe a treasure trove. They delighted in the spoils from these old shops. Chihiro said a grateful prayer, too. The three of them were, without a doubt, the technical experts on this island. Their abilities were more like magic than science to the average person like Makoto.

Before now, they'd lacked any of the tools to put those incredible talents through their paces. Even though this was just a bunch of scrap and junk, it was like they’d found a river in the desert.

It didn't matter to them that the water might be dirty. Or have exposed electrical wires arcing dangerously right overhead in the midst of shady, cramped, crowded stores full of derelict equipment. That metaphor got away from Makoto a little bit, but even so. It was something. It was machines. They couldn't force people to make sense. They couldn't fix the messed-up state of the world itself. But a broken machine was something they could go at, with hammer and tongs.

Literally.

If that guy was around, he’d probably gush about how _wonderful_ it was to see the Ultimates in full bloom, using their _amazing_ talents.

Despite the tropical sun overhead, Makoto felt a chill. He tried to shake it off, sending his short, messy brown hair to and fro. Becoming an obsessive freak in a green hoodie who yelled about hope wasn’t in _his_ future, dangit!

“It appears there’s no need for further investigation,” Byakuya proclaimed, without even going over to search anything. “We should leave this area to the experts. Let’s move out.”

Touko and Kirumi were always going to be obedient, so it fell to Makoto to object. “Byakuya, what if there’s clues here? Shuichi said we need to go over every new place like ten times-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Byakuya snapped, fixing him with a chilly glare. “Besides, this place could be dangerous in various ways.”

"Hey! Charlotte! Big Mac! Ballsack!"

“W-What, no insulting nickname for me? I d-d-don’t even deserve acknowledgement?!”

While Touko’s finely-honed sense of victimization picked up on it immediately, it took moments of hard thinking and word-selection minigames for Makoto to realize they were being addressed by Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor.

He also realized that all the glowering and glaring Byakuya had done so far was just child’s play. A warm-up act. A daydream of loathing. Compared to the real thing, as it now appeared in response to Miu’s (frankly hilarious) nickname choice.

**“You.”**

“Yeah, that’s right, it’s me, good work there buddy. Hahaha!” Miu’s raucous laughter echoed out to sea. Clashing with the calm rolling and crashing of those waves, and the call of distant, always just-out-of-sight birds. “Seriously, though. I got something big as fuck to-”

_**“Don’t.”** _

In Byakuya’s pure, furious rage, he could only use single words to convey meaning. Putting the entire force of his personality behind each of them meant he was firing not a word bullet, but a word missile each time.

“Huh? I don’t what? I don’t need to explain? Nah, big boy, somebody who doesn’t have my genius-level intellect, golden brain, and fantastic body wouldn’t be able to comprehend what I’ve got to say-”

_**“Die.”** _

“ _Mmmh~_ N-Not bad, you know. Not bad at all. Er, I mean, can it, shithead! Y-You can’t talk to me that way!”

“Of c-c-c-course a masochistic bitch like you would actually enjoy Master’s abuse,” Touko giggled to herself, grinning off-center. “With a body like that, the only thing you’re good for is th-this kinda stuff, yeah…”

What did Miu’s body have to do with anything, anyhow?

“Everyone, let’s just-” Makoto couldn’t even start a friendship speech.

 **“Come.”** Byakuya turned to leave.

“You keep that up, and I’m well on my way,” Miu admitted. The busty pink-haired inventor didn’t see any problem with yelling her current level of arousal to the entire world. “But that’s not the point for once! Just fucking get over here before you leave! I got something... extra special to show you in this alley, away from prying eyes. Heh heh heh."

Oh good.

Makoto expected Byakuya to erupt like a volcano, but he showed surprising restraint and poise. “What?” Still stuck on single words, though.

Makoto didn’t think that the Ultimate Affluent Progeny was used to people back-talking him. Once you reached a certain level of being rich, there was nobody around you except for friends, family, and people who depended on you for a paycheck. Even if Byakuya didn’t deliberately set up that kind of climate, well. What was being surrounded by those three types of people going to produce?

A jerk.

“I can’t just tell you here, moron. Or I’d have done it already!” Miu rolled her eyes. “Just follow me into this dark alley, and it’ll be fantastic. I promise.”

Touko glared. “R-really? D-do you have the best people, and t-the biggest deals, too?”

Kirumi said, “Mistress Iruma. Forgive me for speaking up. However, I’m not sure if the others find that sort of offer… as appealing as you might suspect.”

“Oh, come on my face! What’s wrong with you all?!” Miu demanded, exasperation creeping up on her usual aggressive, brash tone. ”This is serious. So serious you can’t help but put a ‘super’ on it! Super super super serious.”

“Yeah, j-j-just repeating ‘super’ over and over must make you feel very big and clever,” Touko spat. Her beady purple eyes, which matched that braided hair, rolled up to the top of her big, round glasses.

“Please, allow me to meditate,” Kirumi volunteered. “Lest we take up any more of Master Togami’s time than is necessary.” She gestured over with her glove towards Makoto. “I promise a compromise.”

“Uh?” Makoto blinked.

“Hmm. Yes, the madwoman does seem to have taken some perverse liking to our soft-hearted Makoto,” Byakuya nodded, finger pressed up against the side of his forehead in thought. “There is a saying in the corporate world. ‘Match the tool to the activity.’ This is very likely to be pointless and bothersome. Makoto, that means you’re the perfect fit.”

Makoto came out here to have a good time, but he was feeling personally attacked.

It wasn’t like people making him do stuff was a new thing, though. He couldn’t help but accept. In fact, Byakuya left him no choice. “Just get it done quickly. If you dally too long with her, then we’ll just leave you behind.”

You promise?

Against his better judgement, Makoto obeyed. He was led deep into the back-alleys of town, far out of sight. A desolate place of long shadows. Where the beautiful sea and gorgeous beaches seemed so distant. Even the sound of the waves and birds faded. If Miu was going to do something to him, there could really be trouble. He was tiny, and she was not.

“So! Seems like you’re keeping busy! And not on the shit I tell you to do. Despite you being my ‘assistant’, huh?”

Makoto had never invented anything in his life, why him? “I mean, until today, there hasn’t been much to do, right?”

‘There’s always shit to carry! Are you that selfish? Do you intend on making Kiibo do all the damn work?”

“Um. Weren’t robots made to make life easier for people?”

“That kinda bigoted fuck-thinking is gonna lead to the uprising! When our creations decide they’ve had enough of our fucking shit, that’s it. Forget the Ultimate Hunt, it’ll be Human Hunting Time, boy!”

What was this conversation?

“Hey. Byakuya’s all over you in various ways, right?”

The phrasing on that one could use work. Doubtless Miu’s intent. For some reason, a few of the girls, like Junko, said the two would make a ‘cute couple’. in spite of, or perhaps due to, the massive difference in height and attitude… _‘Seme’? ‘Uke’? What?_ “I mean, at least he’s opening up a bit.”

“Kiibo said Togami told both of you that all your friends were losers and you should die alone!”

“Well, some people just need some time to warm up,” Makoto sweatdropped, scratching his chin.

“Nnngh. As usual, you’re just a pushover. If you roll over for every bully, then what’s special about our relationship?” Was she… concerned for him? There was that time in the past when Byakuya’s attitude caused her to go nuclear at him. Because of Makoto, come to think of it. “I’m the only one you should take abuse from, idiot.”

One particular storefront had a ton of old laptops out on display. The glass was missing, so the showcase models could easily be tinkered with. As Chihiro was doing to one of the units. The monitor was dark. After just a few moments in the Programming Angel's embrace, the compact machine sputtered to life. The screen flickered on, casting the darkened alley in an alien green glow.

"You're probably the best choice," Kazuichi shrugged. He kept looking both ways down the alley, back and forth, glaring. "Glad you happened to come by, Makoto."

"Okay, with this buildup, I'm getting a bit curious," Makoto admitted with a smile. What sort of thing had these three technical wizards unearthed among piles of discarded junk?

"First, gotta make quadruple sure. Ahem." Miu cleared her throat, and then bellowed, _"Ho shit, Makoto! You're so fucking huge! No wonder you’re the Ultimate Lucky Student! I ain't lettin' Mayonaise, Kirigay, or any of those bimbos hog this dick!"_

Kazuichi reached over and clapped his hands over Chihiro's ears as tightly as he could. While Makoto stared, eyes wide, face red. "W-W-What?! Miu, what are you...!?"

 _"Shut up, moron!"_ Miu whispered fervently, then went back to yelling, cupping her hands around her mouth. "It's a good thing **Usami** will never find us all the way back here! There's no way Usami's got **cameras** or shit back here. Ahahaha! So c'mere, Makoto! I'm gonna _squeeze_ every drop out of you, whether you like it or not!"

The most awkward minute of Makoto Naegi’s entire life passed.

Including the times he thought somebody was about to kill him!

"Like we figured," Kazuichi said, letting Chihiro go, much to the small girl's relief. "If Usami heard that, she'd be on us in like two seconds. Normally."

"What if she can tell we're just standin' around?" Miu pondered. "Maybe I oughta make it look more real. Like I'm about to make Makoto a man."

No thanks!

"Hey, you don't even know if he's a virgin," Kazuichi objected.

_That’s your problem here?!_

"Heh heh." Miu grinned viciously, showing just as much teeth as Kazuichi himself. "Nah. I can tell. Neither of you little boys have ever come within like ten miles of actual pussy."

Hey! Makoto was saving himself for-

"Hey, I'm saving myself for when I find true love!"

Hearing Kazuichi give the same excuse he had was the most horrifying part of this entire insane botched comedy routine.

Makoto sweatdropped. "Okay, hold on. Just hold on, guys. Let me guess. You found an important clue like the message on Second Island I found. Because it was destroyed by an Exisal, you think Usami won’t like it. Normally, she'd find it right away, but for some reason, she's 'blind' to certain things until we notice it. Like in a cartoon, when the coyote doesn’t realize he’s run over the cliff. So, you wanted to bring me in on this clue before it’s destroyed."

"I don't know why it surprises me when you do that," Kazuichi admitted, rubbing his beanie-clad shock-purple hair. "I mean, you’re an investigator too. I just always assume Shuichi will… oh well. Anyhow, that's about it, man. It seems clear if Usami is fucking with our clues, she wouldn't do it when we were like, looking right at it. So, I stared at this thing while Miu went to get Chihiro, and then you. Like that one Doctor Who episode."

"If we saw it happen, we'd know for sure that Usami was messing with us," Chihiro nodded. There was no guarantee she'd care about something like that, but apparently she did. "Either way, we managed to save the clue! Atua is still thinking about what this means, so he'd like to see what you make of it too."

"Uh, sure." Makoto had to admit. This was a moment that really brought home that, beneath the antics, these three had genius-level minds. In their fields, they were unparalleled, and even coming up with things on the fly, they made it work very quickly and with flexibility and initiative. "Heck of a plan to come up with in, what, ten minutes?"

"Seven," Kazuichi corrected. "Now come on, we don't actually know if we're right or not. Chihiro, bring up the list."

"List?"

The document's name was **'Gopher Project Manifest'**.

"The Gopher... Project?" Makoto repeated, gawking.

"First any of us have heard of that name, either," Kazuichi said. "This thing has the HPA seal all over. It's got encryption, and stuff. Probably legit. So that might be what the Academy called Usami's mission to come rescue us."

"This thing was encrypted, and you got it open in seven minutes?" Makoto asked Chihiro, who blushed and shuffled her feet.

"Four. But only because Atua took over my hands, and brought me to the correct ciphers to try," Chihiro said. "C'mon, check it out!"

_"This is a comprehensive list of all crew and equipment for the Gopher Project. Compiling this data is admittedly pointless. Our destruction is imminent, but we carry on regardless. We can't do anything else. - **Director Jun Kirigiri.** "_

Director Kirigiri... that rang a bell from this morning's Flashback Light, about the meteors and the news update. “Kyouko told me she didn’t know anything about that Director Kirigiri guy, and he wasn’t related to the Hope’s Peak Headmaster with the same last name.”

Miu rolled her eyes. “Sure. They’re just three totally different people, with the same last name. The same as hers. All tangled up somehow in the fate of Hope’s Peak. But there’s no relation anywhere. Likely story.”

Makoto shook his head. “Kyouko-”

“ _Could_ just be lying,” Kazuichi cut in, glowering. “I mean, all this… Who knows who’s lying about what anymore? She says she doesn’t have her memories, but do you have any proof she’s not just stonewalling?”

 _“Proof?”_ Makoto glared. “I’ve got all the proof I need, guys. Come on. We can’t just start suspecting everyone. We’ve got to trust each other if we’re gonna make it through this. Kyouko said it herself, distrusting everyone is just as dangerous as blindly trusting. Probably more so.”

Chihiro nodded. “I a-agree. Atua is telling me that… no. Today, I saw it with my own eyes. What can happen when friends distrust each other, and fight.” She looked aside. “We can’t let that keep happening.” Her tone was a world away from the meek, wounded animal that Makoto met, that first day on the island.

The document went on to list the Ultimates. At first glance, Makoto thought it was comprehensive. But there were two glaring omissions. While the list had name, birthday, and physical characteristics written down for each entry, it made no mention of Ultimate talents.

Kazuichi sighed. "I guess it's never that easy, huh?"

Wasn't Hope's Peak all about talent? Wasn't that the driving force behind the entire thing?! Makoto knew that a lot of the info on new students are public knowledge on the internet, anyhow, so why not put it here?

“Maybe they were worried about randos finding this thing,” Kazuichi shrugged. “So keeping the talents a secret might make it harder for those Despair guys to get us.”

Chihiro tilted her head. “What makes you think the Remnants of Despair are connected to the Ultimate Hunt?”

“Aside from the evil name? Lady, check out what else is stamped all over this thing. That’s some kinda logo with the Japanese word for Future on it. So if the Future Foundation, headed by this Kirigiri, are our allies…”

“Hold up, wrench-dick. Why ‘the Japanese word for Future’? We’re all Japanese here. We can read letters, numbnuts!” Miu huffed.

“Uh. I’m hoping one day to give Miss Sonia some, you know, tutoring. Ehe. So I’m getting into the vibe.” Kazuichi’s smile, as usual, had an excessive amount of sharp teeth.

“Fuckin’ typical!”

“Aaaanyway.” The second type of omission was even more concerning. "Three people are missing, and there's a name here I don't recognize," Makoto said.

"That's the big thing," Chihiro nodded. "Whatever this could mean, the fact is, the list of 'participants' doesn't include Chiaki, Kiibo, or Hajime. And it does include somebody called **Izuru Kamukura**."

"Could that be the name of the Ultimate Imposter?" Kazuichi asked.

"No." Makoto shook his head. "The Imposter has an entry, up here. They wouldn't bother giving him two spots on this list. That means… wait! I’ve got it! I know where I’ve seen that name before!” He clapped. “The honored founder of Hope’s Peak! Somebody mentioned that on 16chan as I was doing my research before enrollment! The guy who founded the school a long time ago is Izuru Kamukura.”

“Okay, if so, why’s he on the roster now? We don’t have any guys older than, like, Hiro.” Kazuichi shook his head. “No matter how you look at it, that’s suspicious.”

“I can’t help but agree, Shark Boy.” All four people whipped around to see Byakuya’s voice echoing down the alley. The affluent progeny walked up to them, crossing his arms. “This place just grows more strange by the day.”

“Byakuya!”

 _“Nnngh.”_ Miu growled. “Kaz! You were supposed to be fuckin’ keeping watch! Ballsack! How long you been snooping as usual?!”

“The entire time, of course.” Byakuya shook his head. “You are rather loud, you bitchlet.”

“B-B-Bitchlet?!” Miu shivered in what could only be obvious, sordid arousal, recoiling like he’d backhanded her. Which Makoto wouldn’t put past him.

“D-Damn hussie… I want that abusive give-and-take from Master… Me, and nobody else…” Touko fidgeted behind the nearest wall, leaning out, alongside Kirumi. The two were quite a pair. One calm and collected, the other jealous and fuming. Kirumi also towered above the author. Not counting Sakura, which was kinda cheating, Kirumi was in fact the tallest woman on the entire island.

“What else is there?” Byakuya demanded, taking the laptop without asking. However, the rest of the document, which talked about equipment for the project, was unrecoverable. Just corrupted bits of text that meant nothing. For all intents and purposes, this was just a list of names that made no sense. “Hmm. I see. That’s it.”

Kirumi approached, arms folded. “How shall we proceed?”

Byakuya took the reins like a natural, much as Makoto hated to admit it. “The first step is redundancy. Write this down somewhere. Everywhere. In fact, everyone should memorize everything here, just in case. Afterwards, we must get the photographer here with all due speed. Shame nobody here is a member of Security.”

“Um… I don’t think that would help,” Chihiro volunteered, shaking her head. “Tenko got some message and bolted off. I saw Shuichi going the same direction too, so…”

Nobody at the time realized what that could mean.

“Well then. We’ll just need to keep this clue on lockdown. You three.” Byakuya pointed at Miu, Kazuichi, and Chihiro. “Remain here with the laptop at all times, and do not allow it out of your sight for even one moment. Consider this an order.”

“Hey, Ballsack!” Miu bristled. “Who are you to bark orders to the great Miu Iruma, anyway?! You lost your erection! Er. Election! Well, probably both, to be honest. You don’t have any power!”

“Yeah.” Kazuichi shook his head. “Why do we gotta do it?”

“All this selfish bickering. Do you have somewhere _else_ you’re planning to be?!” Byakuya demanded, and the force of his question stopped them dead in their tracks. Well, the fact that he wasn’t wrong helped, too. It was unlikely these guys would be anywhere else on the entire island than this man-made scrapyard. “I didn’t think so. Kirumi and I will scour every island in turn, to find somebody who can summon Koizumi.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“W-W-What about us, Master?” Touko asked timidly.

“You two will continue our original mission. Explore the rest of this island, and report any more clues you uncover posthaste.”

Makoto scratched his chin. “Are you... ditching us, Byakuya?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Makoto. Now go, you two. Time may be of the utmost importance.”

So, they went.

Touko was _not_ happy.

Makoto already established something resembling a friendship with the angry recluse. So he got to hear all about it. At least she didn’t blame Byakuya. She understood his decision. Makoto got some of the splash damage, though. Touko’s mutterings weren’t so bad once he got to know her. No, if there was a single target of her ire, it had to be Kirumi.

The dusty, wind-swept abandoned town fit her dour attitude. While the hospital was like something out of a movie, the other places were not as impressive. They gave off a totally different vibe to either the jungle wilderness, or the tropical resorts. The only other ruins they’d found were on Second Island, which were still unexplained, but they were like ancient ruins.

Whereas this town looked like people could have been here recently. Tumbleweeds bounced past, and the whole place had a dangerous frontier vibe.

So, again, good fit for Touko. Who seemed primed to explode. Not that she’d do much damage with a tantrum compared to some of the other Ultimates. But the sheer force of her fury would be scary… “You n-noticed too, right Makoto?”

“Huh?” Oh no, he was spacing out, please don’t ask him anymore quiz questions-

“T-the rabbit’s totally missing today. Usami’s just gone. Why not come if she cares so m-much about her precious progress gate? Or in r-reaction to that little stunt? Not that I m-mind all that much, not having to deal with even more annoyances, but… It r-raises questions.” That was true. All this island gave them so far was questions, piled on top of questions. Nothing resembling an answer.

They reached the far side of the island, turning with the road so they were pointed back towards the bridge, and started to head ‘down’ by Makoto’s map.

Soon, they ran across another landmark; a movie theater, lit up with gaudy neon signs.

Makoto had been to theaters just to see all the really popular summer blockbusters. They were all so much better than this Jabberwock Cinema place. As internet streaming services took over, the theaters that managed to survive did so by offering a really high-quality service, great, comfortable chairs, refillable concessions, etc. Whereas this was what most people still thought movie theaters were. Small, cramped, dark, and poorly maintained. It was only not crowded because there wouldn't be enough people to really crowd the place.

That didn't mean the it wasn't interesting. Not one of the movie posters hung up on the walls were recognizable. Considering Hollywood movies only got made and exported to places like Japan when they were huge, international hits, that was weird. He'd once read on the internet that movies' marketing budgets could be larger than the entire cost of actually making them. Same with the biggest video games, now.

"I-It's no surprise," Touko grumbled. "Movies l-like to pretend they're some kinda high art, like the written word. Or even b-b-better than. But that's all crap. J-J-Just like games and anime, right Makoto?"

Well, Makoto was actually a fan of some of the more popular, mainstream things. Like games and anime. He didn't dare admit that to the Ultimate Writing Prodigy, though. When she was already in a foul mood.

_"How dare you?!"_

A person who didn't mind letting their freak flag fly, high and often, was Hifumi Yamada, the Ultimate Doujin Artist. He emerged from one of the five cinema rooms, just in time to hear Touko's insult, and flew into a surprisingly animated rage. Watching how fast Hifumi could move, when he was provoked to do so, was both impressive, and comical.

"Oh. You." Touko acknowledged her de-facto rival with as little politeness as possible. Her forehead went an interesting color as she tensed up.

"I demand you retract your absurd implications about anime! This very instant, Miss Touko Fukawa!"

"W-What, do you think using my f-full name will work on me? L-like you're one of my moms, or something?"

Yeah, you tell him-

Wait, one of her moms? Like, there was more than one?

"Anime such as the eternal classic **Demon Angel☆Pretty Pudgy Princess** far outpaces any garbage delusion you can cook up, scratching at your parchment with an ink quill, you Showa-era anorexic fossil!"

"W-What the hell is wrong with a l-l-little romantic delusion, you two-ton virgin basement dweller?!"

"Look, guys. Can't we just agree to disagree?" Makoto proposed, arms up.

"No!" Both replied, in perfect sync, better than any rehearsed comedy routine. "Because anyone who disagrees with me is wrong!"

"Ookay, then. I'll just, uh, check out the rest of the theater." Makoto took his leave before he could get pulled into the argument directly, or just have to listen to them insult each others' taste in fictional media. The hunky fishermen that Touko loved, and the busty, questionably-legal magical girls that Hifumi swore by, were all just lines on a screen at the end of the day.

The darkly lit interiors gave Jabberwock Cinema an ominous aura, which didn't really fit with the person he found emerging from the back office, Himiko Yumeno. The Ultimate Magician. Or as she always insisted, the Ultimate Mage. Her black coat and pointy witch hat melded with the dark surroundings, but her bright red hair stuck out. It was hard to think of her as some kind of evil menacing witch, in spite of her own best efforts.

At least Himiko didn't tower over him. In fact, she was rather short, looking about as young as Hiyoko. Definitely too young to actually be in university. High school, maybe, at a stretch. Maybe they had some kind of condition that stopped growth. "Oh, hey Himiko."

"Hey, Makoto," The mage(ician) replied in her typical languid way, favoring him with a crooked smile. "Doing the loop, huh?"

"Actually, yeah. How'd you guess?"

"You guys with the funny hair are always doing stuff that's a pain." Surprisingly perceptive. He honestly assumed she just sat around most days doing literally nothing, and paying little heed to her fellow Ultimates. To a degree that it was kinda worrying. Especially since Tenko had stopped trying to poke, prod, and pull her around as much lately. If somebody just sat around all day, then, well... Makoto glanced back towards the concession and ticket area of the theater, where raised voices could still be heard.

"Haha, fair enough. I suppose you're checking to see if they've got any movies about magic showing?"

"Because it's Usami, I thought it was possible. Her magic would be incredible, if I didn't overshadow her power a hundredfold." A hundredfold? So she could like, blow up the world, huh? "It's just that my MP is low lately, so I've had to drink a ton of strong mana potions to compensate. Especially last night. Then the restrooms were all out of order that one time..."

Himiko loved to overshare just a bit too much for comfort.

Luckily, Makoto had greatly levelled up his 'humor people who are nuts' spell, which he could cast at will as needed. "If there's anyone here who could help us figure out Usami's magic, then you'd be the one! Any luck?"

"Nope. It's probably because we explored this dungeon without a high-luck party member like you, Makoto." Makoto glanced over, and grinned wider upon seeing Chiaki, the Ultimate Gamer, walk out of another theater. She was like an oasis of peace in chaotic situations. Mainly through being half-asleep. Makoto could use a bit more of that pace in his life. He thought about asking Chiaki about the Gopher Project list thing, but with everyone's memories being what they were, there seemed to be little point in even bringing it up. "It's just a bunch of normal films. That might be okay for some distraction, but media you can interact with is really a lot better, right?"

As expected. "I get that. So, it's just like, a normal place? Did you girls go over all the theaters?"

"Pretty much. I think you'd really enjoy what they're showing in number five over there," Chiaki recommended, pointing across the otherwise empty hallway. "It's super cool. You should watch it, Makoto."

Himiko nodded limply. "That's right, it's pretty great."

"Right," Chiaki agreed, and reached out to push Makoto forward. "C'mon, c'mon."

"Whoa!" Why were these two girls, of all people, suddenly getting all forceful? Makoto got swept up and taken into the room. He saw nothing at first in the darkness, lit only by the screen, which was just displaying some trailer preview thing. The rows of seats sat empty, and... wait. What was that on the screen?

"... You're kidding."

Right there on the massive, panoramic display, flickering silently, was a message in ten-feet high characters.

**"The Mastermind of both Killing Games has lost their memory."**

What?

Chiaki narrowed her eyes. "See? It was a file on the theater computer called 'my second clue from me to you'. When we tried to run it, we thought Usami might have written it. But..."

Who else could have? Who else would even be able to access this area before it was opened to the Ultimates?

Himiko shook her head. “Doesn't she love things that are a pain, like exploring?"

That... was also a distressingly good observation to make. Makoto's blood ran cold. "Guys, if this... I mean. Whatever this means, this is bad news."

"It's no good," Chiaki nodded. "But it's mega important. Hey hey, we need to make sure everyone sees this, right?"

“I dunno about that. It’ll just cause more bother and everyone will get real mad.” Himiko sighed. “Probably not worth the effort.” There was a case to be made there. One of the four people who had a more advanced stage of memory loss had to be suspicious. More than that, it meant one of them could turn out to be the actual ‘mastermind’ responsible for… both Killing Games? Monokuma’s attempt on day one, and then, what, the one from the flashback lights only the amnesiacs saw?

Thankfully, the fact that they were still going, after both those attempts to make everyone kill each other, proved it just wasn’t effective. As Makoto thought, friends would never kill each other over that kinda stupid thing. Even so, this wasn’t the kind of thing anybody could just ignore.

Panic and paranoia would spread like wildfire on the island again. After everyone was gradually starting to relax, this would set it all back to a time where people could barely get to sleep for fear of what they’d wake up to find the next day, in the bright tropical sunlight.

B-But just hiding stuff from his friends just wasn’t Makoto’s style, right? It wouldn’t fair to everyone, either-

“We’ve gotta make sure everyone knows about this, just like every other clue,” Chiaki declared, hand stretched out towards the flickering projection. “... I think.”

“Uh, why?” Makoto asked, hoping she had a reason good enough to shore up both her own, and his, confidence.

“While it could take a bad turn, it’s still the best option. The biggest thing that’s going to cause big issues down the line is information disparity.”

“Information despair?” Himiko echoed.

“No.” Chiaki frowned. “Disparity. It’s like, in games where you gotta work together to find the traitor. There’s always rules in place to stop you from communicating too much, or working together too honestly. Like, mechanics where somebody could secretly do something bad, while pretending to help the others. Because without those rules, people working together are stronger when they’re all on the same page. If we don’t stick to that policy, then I think it could also lead to a lot more misunderstandings.”

Makoto could only sigh in relief. “Yeah. Agreed. Come on, then. Let’s get the others. I’m sure they’re still having some kind of weird waifu or husbando war, or whatever they call it, up front.”

Considering there’d already been two important clues uncovered so far, Makoto knew they had to push on as soon as Touko and Hifumi saw this one, and they’d written it down on paper from the cinema’s backrooms. The others could wait until the post-exploration meeting, where they could all be informed in one go.

Makoto had a lot to think about, but his racing thoughts were interrupted.

"Y-You look like you've got something to say with that dumb face of yours," Touko observed.

"Ah. I was just thinking, um.” He didn’t want to reveal his actual worries at the moment. “You seem like you're in kind of a better mood?" Which wasn’t untrue. Her visage was no more pleasant or sunny than usual, but she felt less like a pent up ball of furious energy.

"W-W-What do you mean?"

"I mean, before, you were all wound up like a spring. Maybe hashing things out with Hifumi was like, a stress relief thing?" Something about ‘old married couple’ came to mind.

"T-That's even dumber than your usual stupid dumb remarks, Makoto. Come on."

Jackpot.

"S-So. Since you're prying, I'll take this chance to p-pry too." Touko leered, grinning ominously. "Who are you... aiming for, hmmm?"

"Aiming for?" Makoto echoed. “Touko, you can't mean..."

"Not that, idiot. If you're a traitor, I'll e-e-eat a pair of scissors. You’re way t-too much of an herbivore male, l-like Junko said.” All these labels! Even if it was true, it was kinda insulting. Boys _were_ supposed to be aggressive… right? “I meant what are you plans in relation to the next progress gate? Hehehe."

Makoto didn't want to think too much about that, but it was tough to ignore. Usami's note that she left along with the flashback light was good enough to outline the group's next objective. Instead of getting to know people, or making friendships, it was, well. In some ways, an escalation that made sense, even if it was weird as hell.

**"In order to progress, at least seventeen students must be in romantic relationships."**

"That thing, huh."

"I know th-that rabbit can barely write, but now we know she can't count, either. T-That, or she's more o-open minded than I figured."

Makoto didn’t follow. "Open minded?"

"Did you happen to notice that seventeen is not divisible by two, moron?!"

Oh.

Touko grinned, leering over at her friend, the only other permanent member of the Fukawa Book Club. "I-It's not an uncommon arrangement in the genre I write, you know. In fact, some of my best work has it. A b-bunch of strong, strapping men working together, all for the pleasure, protection, and v-various other things with one lucky girl~" Touko giggled. "Although in the real world, c-closed minded people in the majority with their 'common wisdom' and 'monogamy' have made society forget relationships can be any other way!"

What a rant to experience firsthand.

Makoto found it kinda fitting when they arrived at a building that could only be a hot springs inn. Just like Hiyoko's lab, it was maximum Japanese, with the classical wooden architecture, sloped roof, sliding paper doors, the works. The steam coming off the back indicated the presence of a real hot springs, even before the sign, **The Insen Onn** , tipped him off.

The surroundings weren't very natural or peaceful, but maybe that was the idea. When the people who lived here wanted to take a break, they could go to this bathhouse or something.

"Hey, Touko."

'Y-Yeah, Makoto?"

"Guess we gotta check this place out, huh."

"T-Those were Master's explicit orders."

Well, if Byakuya said it, then it was gospel, right? "Let's just do it, it'll be totally fine."

"Y-y-yeah."

There was a reception area, with a desk that wasn't manned, a mailbox for each room, and room keys that could just be taken by anyone. There was indeed a real hotel portion to this building, along with the main attraction, the hot springs. The entire building was shaped like half a box, with wings framing the springs to either side and shielding them from prying eyes.

Of particular, and suspicious, note was the bathing arrangements themselves. The maps quite clearly listed a male, female, and mixed section in the middle between the two. How liberal and, in Touko's words, open-minded.

Makoto expected her to be vehemently against that, but instead, she looked like ideas were racing through her head. "If Master... keeps telling me to take a bath, then... m-maybe, Makoto. Maybe just maybe... B-But that's got to be too much to hope for." It definitely was. "I mean, if Master would..." He wouldn't. Not with Touko, certainly.

Not even if his alternative was getting nailed to a cross or something.

"I s-suppose I've still got to give this place a try."

"Really? What about exploring the rest of the island?"

"T-That will be important, but Master will probably be pleased i-i-if I actually... take a bath, like he says..." Hard to argue there.

There were certain factors that might make it difficult for Touko, though.

"Oh, my! Makoto! Touko! Salutations, and well met!"

Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess, emerged from the female bath area in nothing but a simple green yukata. A small towelette hung over her slender shoulders, and she had one of those wooden buckets with soap under one arm.

"H-Hey, Sonia. Come to check this place out?"

"I would not miss it for the world, Makoto. It is a chance for me to finally sample the exotic bathing in your country!"

But this bathing, aside from the mixed section, wasn't anything exotic or special. And most importantly, this wasn't even Japan. Although it might as well have been for the Ultimates. For now.

"As I told you before, Makoto, it is vital to consider viewpoints outside of your own experience, as well as different cultures and perspectives." Serial killers and hot springs weren't the same thing, though. There was a nugget of such great wisdom, he didn't feel the need to say it aloud. Touko didn't look like she was too comfortable, squirming about, trying to find a way to quietly leave, but Sonia had locked on. "Touko! I believe you said that you wish to 'check out' the bath, too. Would you perhaps care for some company?"

Sonia Nevermind was, in many ways, everything Touko Fukawa hated about other girls, personified. That was a fact, Makoto had heard it from the horse's mouth before. Normally, such an invitation would have received nothing but a torrent of scorn, and a harsh denial. If it was anyone else, that's exactly how it would have played out.

However, Sonia's forthright attitude and regal bearing might have reminded Touko of a certain other person. Just enough to hold her tongue, when normally she'd unleash it most harshly against 'damn popular blondes' like poor Kaede that first day on the beach.

"Nnnngh... W-Well, I mean, I'm sure I'd just be a bother... Like usual..."

"Nonsense! I implore you, come with me if you want to live! So to speak, hehe. This is just like the situation of that great drama in your nation, Makoto. The most popular one of the late seventies! Surely you know the one."

"I definitely not," He admitted sheepishly, and Sonia huffed.

"Oh well. I suppose there's nothing to be done. Anyhow, you two must get changed."

"Me too?" Makoto asked, scratching his chin.

"Of course! Ah, but of course, we must use the male and female baths, respectively. While you might doubtless prefer another outcome, Makoto, I will still be queen of the Kingdom of Novoselic one day! And Touko surely has things she would also prefer remain away from the prying eyes of a healthy young man."

"Um, I wasn't going to suggest anything else..."

"Splendid! Then, it will not be necessary to remove your eyes today!” Please don’t make such convincing jokes with such a bright, brilliant smile, and a gleam in those wide eyes.

Sonia was like Byakuya in a few ways, alright. Once she'd set her mind to something, it was impossible for the people around her to resist, or even say anything back for the most part. In Sonia's part, it just came in a more friendly package, with less insults baked in. If Byakuya ever figured out that he'd be more popular and influential without the mile-long bad attitude, everyone was in serious trouble.

Like, with say, his larger version.

"Ah, Makoto. I was just getting out, but the water is fine in there. In fact, this place may not match up to some of my previous resort experiences, but it is at least... forgivable. I suspect for your plain, common tastes, you may even find it very pleasant."

"Haha, probably so. How's it going, Byakuya?"

"If you're referring to our conversation from yesterday, or my defeat... it surely doesn't matter anymore. The only thing we can do is keep working for everyone's safety. Even if the people will not acknowledge me yet, that does not mean I can abandon them in these uncertain times."

Makoto smiled up at him. "Awesome, Byakuya. I knew you could bounce back from that." He paused. "Ah, I didn't mean that in like, a fat-joke kinda way."

"That's fine, either way. Hiyoko is around, and she's made sure to fill the quota for those."

"Wow, sometimes Hiyoko, uh, goes way too far. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Tch. I can't feel too insulted, she's just observing things and making quite accurate observations."

Makoto got himself into a towel while he talked, finally admitting to Byakuya as he left, "I've got to say, um. Now that I've talked to both of you. You've got my vote for being the real one, Byakuya. I mean, I really want that to be the case."

The large, portly man could only chuckle at that as he left the bathhouse.

Fortunately, nobody else was in the male section just then. Makoto didn't take long. In fact, when he emerged, and saw the girls were still occupied in there, he considered various things-

“Heeey, Makoto.”

He whirled around in surprise. “Kokichi!”

There he was, the prince of liars himself. Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader, whatever that actually meant. “let’s check out the rest of the island together. Besties should stick together, right?~” With that, Kokichi dragged him along, without even bothering to put on his regular clothes himself, still just wearing that black and white yukata.

Makoto didn’t have much a problem with this, though. Once they were alone on the road, he could finally confront the guy. He could meet back up with Touko later; she’d grumbled and told him to go on ahead, and Makoto had a few things he had to get off his mind anyhow.

“Hold on, Kokichi.”

“Hmmm? Finally worked up the courage to confess to me?~”

“As if I need more trouble in that department right now.”

“Awww, poor Big Mac. Too many beautiful women want to be around you!” Kokichi’s crocodile tears weren’t very effective, even on a simple guy like Makoto, when it came out of literal nowhere.

“Kokichi, seriously. Yesterday, you could have proven to everybody that you’re on the level. You were about to call on me. You know I’d tell everyone what really happened that first day. But you just backed off for no reason. So everyone thought you really were just making it all up. What gives?”

Kokichi shrugged. “Maybe it’s better if people think whatever the heck they want about me.”

Makoto thought back to Chiaki’s line about information disparity between ‘players’. “How could that be good?!”

“You guys are all over the cooperation thing. Working together, standing united. It’s all I hear about. It’s like, whatever, right?” He glanced at his own nails. “Maybe there’s other ways to work together than being friends. Or, to put it another way. Consider that there’s useful reactions I can get, that you can’t. Roads are open only to me, because people think I’m fucking crazy.” He grinned darkly. “And maaaaybe I actually am, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“You’re going to _work together_ , by being hostile and unhelpful?”

“Just think of it like there’s a friend meter you can max out with people, but also a rival or foe meter, too. Either road will get you closer, and make you more influential. But since it’s a different path, it might turn up new things. Or something like that.”

Makoto shook his head. “No way. You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Well, that, or I’m just making excuses for being a little shit. _Nishishi_. You’re too easy, Makoto.”

Makoto rolled his eyes, checking his map. They were about to come full circle. In fact, the bridge was in sight when they arrived at the final landmark on the Fourth Island loop.

On the outside, it resembled a school or factory. Bare grey metal contrasted the white paint everywhere else. The rows of windows and multiple levels gave it a real sense of scale. The windows are all barred. The materials used to make the structure were solid and industrial, and security seemed to be a real concern. The complex even had a perimeter wall with a heavy, thick steel gate.

"This looks like a prison," He pondered.

"Well, yeah." Kokichi tapped on the sign posted to the side of the gate. **'Gopher Island Maximum Security Prison'.** "Good job." In response to Makoto’s blush, Kokichi added, "Oh, lighten up!"

Makoto leaned against the gate, to no effect. Neither of these boys were physical powerhouses. Rather the opposite. But with their powers combined, they got the uncooperative steel to move, groaning and whining. The boys, not the steel.

The main event was the central prison block complex. There was a utility shed and storage area outside, and also something that looked more like an office building near the entrance. Alongside an empty guard post.

"Let's hit the admin block first!" Kokichi suggested, not waiting for Makoto’s reply before running in. Arms waving behind him like Angie.

They uncovered the control center of the prison. There was a lavish warden's office with fine wood paneling, endless filing cabinets, and a big oak desk. The walls had motivational posters and paintings hung up, including some very detailed work portraying the real Hope's Peak Academy back in Japan. Seeing the building frozen in watercolors, suspended in its own little fictional world where the calamity Makoto remembered had yet to happen, was striking. So striking, it took him a few moments to notice the other details. Like how Izuru Kamukura, revered founder of HPA, was also on the wall as a grand portrait. The old man's stern visage was a reminder to every student of every generation of what grand aspirations the Academy.

It was also a reminder of that mystery Chihiro uncovered. Maybe it was a symbolic gesture from the current headmaster. Er, the last headmaster, that was. A poetic flourish, indicating that they carried the heart and soul of Hope's Peak itself, wherever they went.

Before Makoto could get too deep into his own navel, Kokichi pointed out the far more flashy discovery. Behind the desk, the far wall of the office was totally consumed by blaring flatscreen displays. Each one showed something different. For a moment, Makoto wondered if the surveillance cameras throughout each island were transmitted there. That would have been a big deal. However, the feed was only from cameras inside the prison. It showed a lot of empty, open cells, for the most part. The dark, cold metal hallways, lit by swinging overhead lights and featuring few, small windows, quickly conveyed the oppressive atmosphere of a jail.

Kokichi took a seat in the comfortable warden's chair. "I could get used to this. Especially if I had people to boss around! What's an Ultimate Supreme Leader without some minions, I ask you... Ooh. Buttons underneath the desk!"

"Hold on, Kokichi, we don't know what those do."

"That's exactly why I gotta do it!" A klaxon sounded. Makoto saw every cell slam shut. "Lockdown, huh?"

A voice jumped from the array of monitors, causing him to jump halfway out of his skin. _"Hey! Who's out there! What is the meaning of this?!"_

"Kirumi?!" Makoto’s guess was soon proven true, as one of the monitors revealed the Ultimate Maid, locked behind a bulkhead and banging on the metal with great annoyance. The silver hair covered one eye, but the other conveyed an intensity that was unfamiliar. Normally, Kirumi was so calm and polite, her shift here was more frightening than seeing an actual monster on the monitors. “The heck’s she doing here?”

_"Let me out of here! This isn't funny!"_

Oh, right. They were in the actual control room. "Kokichi, somebody's inside! Hit the button again!" More steel doors slammed shut, a dozen or more forming an iris of metal sliding closed in stages. "The same button!"

A Three Stooges routine ensued. One of the boys in the office was intent on opening the lockdown. While the other delighted in making it worse, and hearing Kirumi's desperate yelling for help, while cackling.

Finally, mostly with the power of his supposed ultimate good luck, Makoto overcame the odds. In the form of a white-black yukata wearing clown. The lockdown was lifted, and those alarms switched off. Once the last barriers had lifted away, Kirumi left the view of any camera. In moments, she arrived at the administration block.

"Sorry about that, Kirumi," Makoto sighed. "We didn't know anybody was exploring the prison."

"Think nothing of it, Makoto." Kirumi brushed her long, elegant slate-grey and white maid skirt. She'd totally regained her usual calm demeanor. She wasn't even breathing hard, and she bowed to him, lifting the edges of her skirt with her gloved hands. "In fact, I should be the one to apologize, for losing my composure when the lockdown surprised me."

"No, that's... anyone would freak out," Makoto replied. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"And here I thought you really were a maid-robot," Kokichi said, swinging round and round on the chair. "Hey there, Mom."

"Please don't call me that," She replied, eyes firmly closed, as a tightness came to her face and voice. Not outright tension. Anyone who hadn’t spent time hanging out with her wouldn’t have noticed. It was there, though. "In any case, Master Naegi, I have concluded my investigation. If it would please you, I could save you both some time with a report."

"Well, sure," Makoto nodded. "That would be very helpful. Uh, you agreed to just call me Makoto, though. Remember?

“I’m not sure what you mean, Master Naegi.”

“A-Anyway, what's up with this place, Kirumi? Why is there a prison here?"

"I'm afraid that's one question I do not have the answer to," The Ultimate Maid admitted. "It is one of several we must confront Usami with. In any case, the building is like any modern prison in any first world country. Not exactly welcoming in any sense of the word, but well-maintained. There is bulletproof glass in places rather than metal bars. As you saw, the system has a monitoring and lockdown feature. Individual cells can also be controlled from that panel near the wall. In addition, the facility has its own underground generator in case of power loss."

"We observed the same thing at the hospital," Makoto nodded. "I wish we knew what the whole island’s running on. At least a blackout won't take these places down. Although I can see the need for a hospital... but a jail, too?"

"With respect, sir. A society has many uses for a jail," Kirumi said. "If somebody becomes dangerous to the group, this is a way to handle it without violence. In fact, this could be what Usami has in mind for 'intervening' when a rule is broken. If I may also draw your attention towards the Warden's desk. I uncovered something of critical importance. The key that opens or closes any door within the jail."

Makoto reached over, pulled the drawer she indicated, and confirmed it was there. It was stylized and, of course, featured Usami's head on the end. Compared to the dour, drab nature of the prison itself, it was a tonally dissonant nightmare.

Like everything Usami said and did.

"In fact, as you can see from the note taped to the inside of that drawer, the prison structure itself is hardened against all forms of attack, and designed to last ten thousand years. It is invulnerable. Only the command center here, that key, and presumably Usami, can open or close the cells. Nothing can break in or out."

"You're kidding." Not about the note; Makoto could see it, and read it for himself. He just couldn't believe a building like that was possible. "That’s super impossible.”

"I was unable to run extensive tests, as I do not currently have access to military-grade weaponry." As a maid, when would you ever have access to that?! "Even items that should break easily, such as standard glass windows, or the plastic garbage bins, are resilient. Even if a door is disabled and its power wires are cut, moving it is not possible. Usami has done something to this place, and no object can be broken within it."

On this island, he supposed he could believe it, and trust Kirumi enough to take her word until it could be confirmed later. He just rolled on. "Okay, then. Just two more questions. How many cells are there in total?" Makoto reconsidered quickly. "Ah, sorry. That's a weird thing to just ask out of the blue, of course you-"

"Forty-eight."

"- counted them. Wow, Kirumi! You’re amazing."

Kirumi brushed it off, as she did with all compliments. "I am a maid, after all."

So. Usami just unveiled a facility that was perfectly suited to imprisoning every Ultimate on the island. That was um, another thing to bring up at the meeting. In fact, he decided to file it away mentally as the third big clue this island had to offer so far.

“Then, last one. Where’s Byakuya?”

‘Ah, yes. Master Togami instructed me to investigate this large area thoroughly, before returning to his cabin himself. Presumably to brood.” That wasn’t said, as others would, with a judgmental air, it was just a factual report.

"Fair enough. Hey, Kokichi. Could you..."

Makoto should have freaking known. Given the lack of running commentary during his conversation with Kirumi. He should have at least noticed when one of the two people in the room with him vanished, but he'd been so consumed by speculation.

Kokichi was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was the key.

"Oh, come on." Makoto sighed. "He took the key, Kirumi."

 _"Heeey! I'm somewhere in the prison, you guys!"_ Kokichi's playful voice came from the set of monitors, although he was nowhere to be seen. His voice was echoing through the hallways. His cheery tone didn't fit the mood of that place anymore than Usami's pink motif, and it caused the same sort of chilling eerie effect when put together. _"If you want the key, come and fiiiiind me!~"_

Kirumi leaned forward, and brought a small microphone out of the control panel, depressing two buttons. "Is that a Request?"

"You betcha!"

_Your funeral, buddy._

Watching the cartoon chase unfold throughout the prison complex was amazing. Makoto sat on the desk, watching the monitors flash with bits of monochrome as they played a game of cat and mouse throughout. He didn’t give Kokichi much of a chance in the literal long run. Kirumi’s legs were like twice as long, and she seemed very familiar with disciplining bratty children.

Yet, when all was said and done…

 _“Where… is he…”_ Kirumi stalked the halls of the prison, addressing the camera.

“Uh.” Makoto pressed down the speaker button and leaned into the mic. “I don’t see him anywhere, Kirumi! I think he’s gone.”

_“Impossible. I’ve covered the front entrance every single moment-”_

Kokichi leaned over against Makoto’s shoulder. “Nishishi. We’ll meet again, spider-lady!”

Before Makoto could grab him, off he went. “Kokichi! Get back here! Ah, shoot.”

At least Makoto was able to let Kirumi out. Once she’d, uh, calmed down a bit.

What a hassle.

This was definitely the worst thing to happen today. With no doubt.

They never got that key back.

Freaking Kokichi.


	25. 2-3. The Ultimate Labs IV (Kaede)

A crisis was brewing on Fifth Island.

This was going to be the first of many tests for the Ultimates, and especially the four people, chosen above all others, to lead.

"I understand where you're coming from. In general, I agree, darling. Danger is, like, bad." Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, and one-third of the Council, examined her nails for the fifty-third goddamn time today. "But people have been waiting actual weeks for a chance at their Labs."

While Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Pianist, also one of the newly-elected leaders, was going to kill somebody.

Presuming one of Monokuma's traitors didn't beat her to the punch with the stuff they'd just stolen.

Mukuro was the Ultimate Soldier, after all. Kaede wondered before now what sort of lab Mukuro would get, based on such a dangerous talent.

Now she knew, because it was right in front of her face. Still smoldering from the small fires being smothered by those handy dandy fire grenades they'd all found. Once the smoke that had led them there cleared out, she could take in the scenery.

An army base unfolded before her astounded purple eyes. Complete with barracks that could put up many people in some minimal level of comfort. Accommodations and a mess hall. Training areas, shooting ranges, and obstacle courses. Benign storage areas that held the handy firefighting gear. Garages with three jeeps, one of which sported a huge machine gun on the back. Even more alarmingly, the last one held an actual, real, authentic, operational tank. The grand finale, though, was the goddamn helicopter! Its sleek black paint job absorbed most of the sun’s rays as it half stuck out from the open metal tube of its high-roof hangar. From all anybody could tell, the missiles hanging off that helicopter were real as real could be. The shells loaded into the tank were big heavy metal slugs.

Mukuro had proven these military vehicles were real by getting in, turning each on, and taking them for a brief test drive before the shocked Council.

Those were the big-ticket items to panic over, and Kaede sure did. But that wasn’t even really the problem. Unless something radically new came to light, only Mukuro herself should have been able to operate the war machines. It should also have been impossible for somebody to, say, burn open a section of the base’s concrete and barbed-wire perimeter wall, sneak in, cut open the locked armory, and make off with guns and ammo.

Like somebody had, in fact, just done.

Kaede stepped back through that scorched hole in the wall, nodding to the investigating Kyouko on the other side. The big, impressive metal gates and unmanned checkpoints and sentry towers, and in fact the thickness of the concrete barriers, all amounted to exactly nothing now.

A single hole in a wall rendered it as pointless as trying to reason with Junko Enoshima.

There was no way to get a prime suspect yet. Maybe, with not just one, but two Ultimate Detective's Labs opening up, they'd be able to investigate.

Although the Council had noticed the rising smoke from the jungle off the road, and come to investigate, they didn’t know how bad the situation really was until now. In light of that, Junko proposed they summon Security to help control the dangerous situation. Which easily passed, 3-0. Kaede’s follow-up, though, wasn’t going so well.

"Even accounting for the facilities here, merely half of our humans could be placated," Gundham Tanaka, final member of the Council, proclaimed grandly. "To deny your fellow mortals a tiny burst of happiness in their otherwise doomed lives might be too cruel even for I!" As if to agree with his point, all four Dark Devas of Destruction emerged from his scarf and coat, clambering atop him.

Normally that would be mega adorable. If Kaede’s head wasn't throbbing.

She smacked the broken chain link fence, causing a deafening bang and hurting her hand. She was careful to curl it up into a fist to protect her golden fingers, at least. The metal rattled and clanked like bells.

"Please, just listen to me! Normally I wouldn't want to deny people this sort of thing. Especially since it might help us figure out some talents. However, we're not talking about some little thing here. What kind of person could bust their way into a military base? And more importantly, why would somebody want to do that before anyone else was here?" Kaede shook her head. "There's only one answer."

"The traitors." Kaito Momota, Captain and nominal leader of the entire island, rubbed the back of his head. He agreed, reluctantly, with Kaede’s line of thinking. "Bastards. We gotta do whatever we can to find all the stuff that was taken."

"That means we need to get tough." Kaede folded her arms. "So we tell people; Fifth Island is completely off limits until we can repair the wall here, and searches are done of every single building."

"With the littering alarm, it shouldn't be possible for somebody to just ditch it in the jungle or bury it or whatever," Kaito said. "Stuff’s gotta be indoors."

"Why do you think Usami decided it would be a good idea to give us the contents of a military base?" Kyouko asked, blatantly ignoring the debate going on to instead closely examine the hole in the chain links. The jagged bits of metal were scorched black, which, combined with the smoke that tipped people off to the location of this building, off the main road, gave a pretty good clue of what happened. “There was no need or expectation for all this, even for the Ultimate Soldier. Yet here it is. Do you think she’ll expect us to need this equipment?”

“What, like if some other asshole like Monokuma shows up?” Kaito shook his head. “Like this place is gonna become a warzone? No way. Not that most of us would be any good. I mean, I literally got astronaut training, and I could maybe fire one of them pistols okay, or I guess fly the helicopter if I had to, but that’s about it.”

“You say that so casually,” Junko remarked with an ear-to-ear grin. “Master at arms here, everyone. Almost as badass as Mookie.”

Somehow, in hindsight, uncovering that Kyouko Kirigiri was, in fact, also known as the Ultimate Detective was just not any shock at all. Not that one had to be an Ultimate to figure the puzzle out. Not with with a bottle of high-grade acid being missing from Shuichi's own lab.

_Shuichi... get here soon, please. I don't know if I can take much more of this._

Junko shook her head. "Anyway, Kaede. If we do these searches, everyone’s gonna be way pissed. Privacy and freedoms and all that good junk. And what happens if somebody has the stuff, huh? You gonna use that new jail on them, Kaede? Lock em up, lock em up?"

“W-Well,” Kaede said, under the cautious gaze of her fellow Councilors, “We’d have to decide that kinda thing together. Once we find out who did it, I mean, we…”

“Kaede?”

“What?!” Kaede demanded, whirling around in annoyance to see who had tapped her on the shoulder. Before realizing she was looking right into the startled grey eyes of Shuichi. “A-Ah, Shuichi! H-Hi there, ha ha. Glad you made it.”

“Yyyep. Just like everyone else who was summoned, ha ha.” No, Kaede wasn’t mad at you, even with what happened yesterday, please don’t think that-

Yesterday.

As if Kaede needed to remember any more vividly. Even then, in the midst of all that stress, her cheeks grew red as she recalled. Hazy, heated memories, bits of crystal-clear detail like, say. The taste of Shuichi’s lips, the slightest hint of fruit, maybe apples, on his breath-

“You know what, guys? Fine.” Kaede threw up her hands. “If you agree with Kokichi that I’m Piano Hitler and I just wanna control everyone, then it’s whatever. You two are gonna agree, so just figure out how you’re gonna respond to this situation on your own. I’m gonna go check out the rest of the labs. Come on, Shuichi.”

“Ah, Kaede, I should probably investigate the situ- whoa!” Shuichi was pulled along by the arm, and that was that. “Uh, I’ll be back, guys!”

“Hold fast, you fiend!” Gundham objected. “Our dark conclave is not concluded!”

“Like I said, decide for yourselves what ot do!” Kaede answered over her shoulder, storming off.

How are you two gonna handle this? Just let people run around until an even more major incident occurs, and somebody gets hurt? Answer that and stay fashionable, Junko.

“Is it gonna be okay for us to just leave?” Shuichi wondered, still being pulled along like a kid.

“With all of Security arriving, they’ll have the place locked down tighter than Togami’s butt. We won’t make a difference one way or another there.”

“Uh, Kaede?”

“Yes, Shuichi?”

“Are you... okay?”

They made it back to the loop of the main road, and Kaede released his arm. “Nope. How about you?”

Shuichi smiled ruefully, looking down to the floor. “Nope.”

“Then let’s be not-okay together. Maybe we can help each other. In fact, I’ve got something that should definitely help you out.”

It wasn’t far. Once they were back on the road, Kaede quickly located the first of the remaining ten Ultimate Labs on this island. It was practically on a line with Mukuro’s lab, although in a more settled-looking area, with rolling hills and the occasional tree. Instead of the wild jungles bordering the sea. As it came into view, the structure’s clean, angular lines looked like any modern design in any first-world country. It was nondescript out front, two stories with some windows on each, and a set of big doors leading inside.

The sign out front was clear, though. Shuichi stroked his chin. “Ah. So this… is **my own Ultimate Lab.”**

“Yep! Congratulations, Shuichi!” Kaede mustered a genuine smile at the look on his face. While he’d been looking particularly depressed, especially compared to how much improved his mood was these past few weeks, this lifted him up. He didn’t have the kid in a candy store look that others had about their new property, but he was definitely more eager to get in and check it out than ask her more questions about her feelings. “Now c’mon, let’s check out what fabulous prizes are within for the real Ultimate Detective!”

“I wouldn’t go that far…”

Kaede had already scoped the place out, but she accompanied him as he explored. Shuichi’s lab fit his status as the Ultimate Detective, but was devoid of any of the classical ‘detective’ style things. Like smoking pipes or roaring fireplaces or any of that. It was nothing short of an ultramodern, fully-stocked crime lab, as Shuichi explained, pointing out various machines, that may as well have been from built by aliens, to her.

“This is astounding. My uncle could never dream of these kinds of resources, available for personal use. We’d have to send things off to crime labs in the city, but here…” Shuichi ran his hands over the machinery, finding no dust. “Brand new. Everything we could need to investigate that… ah, sorry.”

Kaede sighed. “Of course, you should do all that stuff. But it’ll keep for like an hour or whatever, right? Seemed like we could both use a break. You know, a chance to get away. Like, together maybe?”

Shuichi pulled his hat lower. “Sure. Then, let’s go check out the other labs.”

“Huh? Just like that? You don’t want to spend more time here? Maybe tell me about your backstory, so we can advance to the next flag?”

He shook his head. “I’ve told you the mildly interesting parts already, and that’s not much. As for staying here, I mean. We could search it for clues, but would a lab made for me really have much?”

Kaede looked at the stark, clinical white lab walls. Posters of human anatomy, scientific and investigation procedures were hung up all over, like a workplace. Along with a few generic motivational posters with quotes from, like, Einstein. The only personalized thing Kaede had found was in the small private study or office area in back, which had a photo on the desk of an older gentleman. Who Shuichi had picked up, identified as his Uncle, and then put back down to keep looking around more.

“Well, it’s your call. Just, uh, remember to lock it up. Like other places, your Hope Pad will work as the key.”

“You’re right.” One bottle of poison or acid or whatever going missing from the shelves was quite enough, thanks. Since there was nothing broken and no obvious signs of forced entry, it was clear that somebody had just walked into the unlocked lab, taken the chemical, and been on their merry way.

Another fucking fantastic safety decision from Usami right there. ‘Love love, I don’t need to secure this, surely nobody would be evil enough to steal poison and use it. Traitors? W-What are those?!’

It was good to be with Shuichi again, though. To talk with him, to be around him. His presence was soothing to her aching head and heart equally.

They spent a lot of time together yesterday, sure. That felt like ages ago, though, given everything that was happening, so fast. And that night, those memories, the bravery even just a tiny sip of sake could give a silly musical-obsessed girl…

It wasn’t like they’d gone all the way or anything, but making out was still another world from any of Kaede’s sharply limited experiences.

Small talk was never Shuichi’s strong suit. Especially not now.

They had a bit of time to kill as they walked. At least it was calm when it was just them. They knew they could trust each other. That wouldn’t change, regardless of who tried to pull them apart. Kaede could rely on Shuichi like she dared rely on few others.

She decided they’d proceed clockwise on the map, heading from the opposite side of the island back towards the bridge. Shuichi agreed, marking things off on his map as they went.

Neither of them said a word after that, even as they arrived at the next facility. The lab of the second, newly-revealed **Ultimate Detective, Kyouko herself.**

Talk about night and day.

Shuichi’s lab was a modern crime lab and investigation center. The kind of place the police would use. Whereas Kyouko’s Ultimate Lab was a blast from the past. Specifically, a past only found in the Great Detective novels that spawned the entire mystery genre to begin with. Sherlock Holmes, stuff like that. The old brick building had a foreign style like that, complete with a metal gate of its own. It that led to large, imposing wooden double-doors. While Kaede’s first thought was to compare to to Touko’s gothic mini-mansion, it was a lot less foreboding and ominous. It wasn’t dusty or moldy.

It didn’t have a single window. As Shuichi poked around the doors, he took note of at least a dozen locks and deadbolts. “Talk about security. I’ve seen this a few times before.”

“Some labs are public access,” Kaede said. “Like Hina and her ‘pool, pool, pool!’ As she said. While Byakuya’s is most definitely private property. And he’d love all the kids to get off his lawn, thanks.” That was one thing both the skinny and fat variants shared. “Even that aspect is something Usami took into account?”

“If Usami is the one who designed and built these,” Shuichi replied thoughtfully.

“Huh? What do you mean, Shuichi?”

“I’m just thinking out loud.” Shuichi shook his head, as he glanced around the elaborate living room. This was one of the labs that was laid out more like a house than a commercial or industrial building. Like the actual abode of one of the greats, with only old-style furniture and classic designs. Complete with that roaring fireplace. “I’m just wondering. Kyouko was right back there. Why on Earth would Usami decide an attack helicopter is something our little society needed to have? Especially with the risk that we could just fly it away and escape.”

“Why does anything happen on this island?’ Kaede asked. “I mean, it’s because Usami okayed it, right? At the very least. Or made it happen. Plus, where would we even want to escape to? Somewhere without food and shelter? The world outside is very dangerous right now.”

“That’s what we’ve been led to believe,” Shuichi agreed cautiously. “Another piece that doesn’t fit. The jail, and now Mukuro’s base. Either we don’t know something about the situation, or we don’t know a critical part of Usami’s character that would explain this. Or she’s so incompetent, she doesn’t see how dangerous these new gifts are to us.” He adjusted his hat. “It could also be all three, of course.”

“The next time Usami shows up, the Council is gonna get some answers out of her, don’t worry.” What was keeping her away? Did she know the Ultimates were going to be upset? Was something else occupying her attention?

She was happy to be everywhere yesterday. Like fifty copies of her wandering the island and manning concession stands. But when the going gets tough, Usami gets going.

“That, too, could have any number of perfectly reasonable explanations,” Shuichi offered as they kept exploring together, by the flickering, warm glow of candles and lamps throughout the house. It was the only way to navigate; without the lights, the place would be in perpetual, complete darkness.

While Shuichi’s Lab was two stories to accommodate all the criminology facilities and machinery, this building was a one-story house. Kitchen area, bedroom, and all the amenities that a nineteenth century English home could afford. Plus, cleverly hidden bits of modernization. Like the AC controls behind a painting. If there was gonna be one building with a bunch of secret passageways behind the bookcase or whatever, it had to be this one. So they tried that.

No joy, although Kyouko herself might have had better luck.

Personal touches were light. Neither Ultimate Detective had tons of photos of their family or friends plastered all over, or anything. Although Kaede did find something on the floor of the bedroom. “Shuichi, over here! Whoa, look out. Broken glass alert.”

Sitting in the midst of the broken glass was another photo. This one was a real surprise. It showed a man, whose back was to the camera and who had black hair, wearing some kind of business suit. He held up a smiling, happy baby girl. Whose pale skin and striking purple hair were simply unmistakable.

“Kyouko…?” Shuichi stared at it, huddling close. Before he realized that he was leaning against her, got red, and backed off as much as confined space allowed. “Um. This is quite a surprise, though.”

“No kidding,” Kaede nodded. “I didn’t know her mouth could move in that direction.”

Shuichi chuckled, for just a bit. “I guess people can change a lot from diapers to diplomas.”

“Sometimes.” Kaede shrugged. “Other people, like yours truly? Basically the exact same person. That’s what mom and dad always said. Like, even as a baby, I knew what was good in life. Pianos, and that’s really about it. I mean, seriously, there’s photos hanging up in my house of me with a tiny little baby-sized piano. Just going to town like I thought I was Li’l Mozart or something. Just imagine that.”

“I am, and it’s lethally cute,” Shuichi admitted. Now it was Kaede’s turn to turn red. “I’d like to see what your face looks like when you’re in front of a proper piano nowadays, Kaede.”

Geeze! Where did he bust out those kinda lines from?!

It melted back into his usual awkwardness immediately, ah well. He said, “A-Anyway, I’m not sure we should recover this. Not until Kyouko has had a look in here. If she hasn’t already.”

Kaede blinked. “Why?”

“Maybe this was broken on accident, or somebody smashed it to be a jerk. However, it’s also possible that, um. Kyouko did it.”

“Ah, I get it. Yeah, we are kinda prying.” Kaede said. “... Have you ever heard the tragedy of Kyouko, the Ultimate Detective? It’s not a story Hope’s Peak would tell you. Ironic, isn’t it? She could pry into other people's’ lives, but was spied on herself, in the end.”

_Prequel Memes are universal, right? I'm not wierd. Please don’t judge me, Shuichi-_

“Alright, Tsumugi. Let’s keep going.”

_Damnit._

Just like that, they were back to ‘business’, exploring those Ultimate Labs. Just Kaede and her sidekick, Shuichi, as Kaito put it. Even if these days, it was seeming more like Shuichi had the confidence to push ahead on his own. Without having to hide behind that kinda stuff.

Even today, when something was obviously wrong, he just pushed forward and didn’t let it stop him. Kaede needed some of that spirit lately.

They could have carried right on in that fashion, but Kaede didn’t want to let this chance pass them up. “Hey. If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”

“Huh?”

“What’s bugging us, and stuff.” Kaede still felt like her head was going to split open, but somehow, getting out, stretching her legs, and most critically, talking with Shuichi, made that matter less to her. “Deal?”

Shuichi looked away. “Deal. Of course I’d listen to anything you have to say, Kaede.”

“Thanks. Seriously.” She liked everyone well enough, but there were usually things she had to hold back. Even Kaito, while he meant well, was known for popping off and showing all the discretion of, well, a college boy. Of the people she knew, Shuichi wasn’t the only one who exhibited kindness, loyalty, and smarts, but he was high up on all three of those rankings. Kaede could tell him almost literally anything. So, she did.

A few smaller worries were unloaded first. It wasn’t anything anyone could help, but venting about them was nice. The bigger one was the breakin at Mukuro’s base. For the moment, there wasn’t a thing to do about that, either. “Of course, I’m still going to be up at night, wondering just what all was taken. Who’s got it? And what they’re planning to go to war over.” The most obvious answer, the one she gave earlier, was also their worst-case scenario.

“The Council rejected your stronger proposals like locking down the island, right?”

‘That’s the biggest thing.” Kaede folded her arms under her chest. “Even more than actual guns. Maybe it’s odd, but I’m more… concerned? Frustrated? With the others. I shouldn’t have made it so obvious. Even if my head is killing me. It’s not like they’ve got it any better.”

“Is it that bad already?” Shuichi asked. “Can’t you guys find some middle ground?”

“That’s all we’ve been doing,” Kaede replied. “I mean, all three of us have our own ideas about how to actually do stuff. So ever since the election, it’s been this clash. Only the obvious stuff gets decided. Everything else is just a lot of talking that leads nowhere.”

“I’ve heard that democratic systems have a tendency to moderate,” Shuichi pondered. “Sorry to say, but this might be the new normal. I’m sure that Junko and Gundham aren’t just messing with you to be mean.”

“I’m glad you’re sure about that,” Kaede grumbled. “No, I know. I’m sure Gundham’s just doing whatever he thinks is right. Even if we literally can’t understand about half of what he says. Junko…” She shook her head. “I mean, what do you want me to say about Junko? She worries me.”

Other people would object to that kind of statement because ‘friends shouldn’t doubt friends’. Or reassure her. Or stick up for Junko. Shuichi made no judgement immediately. He just asked, “Why?”

“It’s not because of any one thing.” Kaede shrugged. “It’s a bunch of everything. She’s usually careless. Like she’d be cool not just with shaking things up, but actual, like, chaos. The kind where people get hurt. Just call that a hunch from hanging around her. But now, she cares about freaking people out, all of a sudden? We’re barely speaking the same language.”

“It’s also been all of one day,” Shuichi pointed out. Reasonable as ever. “Give it some time before you give up on democracy and take over.”

Kaede glared, squaring her shoulders. “Don’t you start with that. I’m just glad Kokichi found somebody else to harass for a while, or he’d have a field day with the whole ‘fascism’ thing. I’ll show him some ‘fascism’, if he wants...”

“Scary.” Shuichi laughed, and Kaede couldn’t keep that stern face up very long before she gave another rueful smile. Rueful was the basic form of her expressions today.

“It’s whatever. I feel like everyone made their votes in a different world. One where this probably wasn’t the biggest deal, and all we’d be voting on is what kind of refreshments to stock at the next beach party. But now, we’re having to make the call in real, dangerous situations. I hope the other two get that.”

“I hope you’re wrong about Junko. Between her and Mukuro, the sisters make up a formidable force. So far, that force has been pulling in the same direction as the crew. I’d like to think that even with what’s happened, we can rely on them. Well, I’d like to rely on everyone and trust them.”

“... But a detective doesn’t have the luxury of wishful thinking,” Kaede finished for him. “Sheesh. Then if you’re not gonna be the ray of sunshine, I guess I’ll have to be! I gotta get my head back in the game, and believe in everyone!”

“Don’t force yourself.”

“No, that’s not it, Shuichi. I just… well. Maybe if I act all cheery and peppy, it’ll come back to me. Fake it until you make it?”

“That was the idea behind making me a ‘leader’, right?” Shuichi shook his head. “I’m not so sure, given… well. We’ll talk about that later.”

 _That_ was ominous.

“O-Oh hey, the next Ultimate Lab!”

The wooden building was surrounded by a dense, beautiful grove of sakura trees in full bloom. With its traditional architecture, the building screamed ‘fighting dojo’ long before Kaede saw the sign that said this was the **Ultimate Lab of Sakura Oogami, Ultimate Martial Artist.** It was like somebody took a bit of Japan and dropped it on this island.

Sakura told both of them about her family. The way they maintained their dojo for well over three hundred years. It was a sacred part of their tradition. While Sakura had never detailed what the actual building looked like, there was no way this design just happened. It painted a vivid, and beautiful, picture of traditional Japan. Right down to the falling cherry blossoms, swept up by the tropical winds.

It was even a place that Kaede would dare to call romantic. Given present company.

Sakura was with the rest of the island’s Security force over at Mukuro’s lab, so nobody came out to greet them. Kaede assumed they’d have free reign of the place. Until they went inside, and saw Hina jabbing at a punching bag half-heartedly.

And still making it dance like a satanic puppet with each blow.

“Oh, hey guys!” The Ultimate Swimming Pro gasped, pausing her assault. Given how much sweat was pouring down her dark complexion, her condition made more sense. She wasn’t half-assing the training, she must have been trying to blow off some steam instead. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

“Hello, Hina. We’re just having a look around,” Kaede replied. A sweaty Hina in a white t-shirt sure afforded an incredible view, too- “Shame Sakura isn’t here, but, uh, she had to go take a meeting.”

“Yeah. She told me to train for both of us while she was gone. Just so Sakura gets some training even while she’s at that meeting!”

Shuichi looked like he wanted to object on the grounds of basic logic. Instead, he took a look around the spacious interior of the dojo. Despite its wooden facade, there were heavy steel supports everywhere. Normally, Kaede suspected a building would shake itself apart if Sakura tapped on the walls. She’d probably have to work hard to damage this place.

Given Kaede’s occasional rampages through a room, she’d picked up a thing or two about this subject-

“Well, you guys wanna give it a try, too? She’s got a bunch of sports equipment here. Although it’s mostly fighting stuff. Ooh, we could be training buddies.”

Neither Kaede, nor Shuichi, were going to be able to keep up with Hina without dying. Even though she was most at home in the water, where she cut a terrifying profile that wouldn’t lose to diesel engines, on land she was no slouch either. “Thanks for the offer,” Kaede laughed, “But we’re investigating each of the new Labs and stuff, for the Council. Official business and stuff. Can’t be helped.”

‘Aww. Alright. If Junko’s makin’ you do it, then you just gotta do it!”

 _Excuse me, ‘make’? Junko doesn’t_ make _me do anything._

“You too, Shuichi? Thought you were supposed to be, like, with the other Black Hats on Fourth Island!”

“You’re always well-informed.” Shuichi grimaced as if he was the punching bag. “Well, you know. There’s been a change of plans. Maybe some other time, Hina.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll still expect you tomorrow for swimming lessons!~”

“Um, about that…” Shuichi looked more uncomfortable than his usual, which was impressive. Given that, Kaede could start to piece together just what was eating him up inside.

She took over. “Well! This is a pretty simple place. I mean, it’s cool, but we’ve already figured out everything about it. No point sticking around. C’mon, Shuichi! Let’s go. We don’t have long before they’ll call us back to the meeting again, I bet.” Kaede turned to leave. “Later, Hina!”

“Oh, uh. Right. See you later, gators?”

Shuichi waved as he was pulled helplessly along, back to the road.

“Alright, I made good on my side, Shuichi. So it’s time for you to fess up.”

“Fess up? Oh, right. Well, I…”

“Come on, something’s happened with the Black Hats. Right?”

“How did you…?”

“I’m psychic.”

“You too?! Is it spreading?”

“You and Tenko were trading some really strange looks back there. And the way you reacted to Hina’s questions?” Kaede folded her arms. “I can only think of a few things that would get you so down in the dumps.”

“Smart deduction,” Shuichi admitted. “Look, Kaede. I trust you. But, can you just promise me that if I talk about it, you won’t, um. Freak out?”

Kaede stared at him. “Is that how you think of me? Do I freak out often?”

‘No!” Shuichi wilted under a well-timed pout. That still hadn’t changed, thankfully. “You’re just a way more proactive person than me. But taking action immediately won’t help. Just picking a fight would do a lot more harm than good. Just like my search for the truth about Angie.”

“Your investigation, huh? What happened? Did Angie find out?”

“Yep. So I guess the current ‘incident’ began yesterday, during the festival. The two of us were hanging out,” And various other things neither of them felt the need to bring up, even if their mutual light red dusting on their cheeks made it clear, “But we weren't together all day, of course. During one of the times when I was alone, Angie approached me, and she was mad.”

“Angie, mad?”

“Very. Apparently, one, or more likely both, of the girls had told her as soon as I asked them some questions.” He sighed, and looked aside. “I thought we were friends, but…”

Kaede shook her head. “If you think you’re friends with somebody, then you’re friends. That’s what I think, anyhow. I’m sure they were pressured or something.”

Shuichi continued, “Angie was… I’ve never seen her like she was yesterday. Normally, she’s all smiles. Even during a bad situation, she forces herself to smile. To project that image. Well, her mouth might have been curved upwards, but there was no mistaking how she felt. Her gaze was intense. She cornered me, despite being half my size. She talked about… how she knew. How I couldn’t hide anything from her, and more importantly, Atua.

She said she’d already forgiven me in her heart for ‘that betrayal’. And now, she was willing to forgive me for poking around in her business. As long as I promised to stop asking all those questions, and let it go.”

“Did you agree?” Kaede demanded, incredulous.

“I…” Shuichi grabbed his chest. “I told her that I’d back off. Especially because the things she was saying, they reminded me so much of what… he said. That guy, when they caught him. It’s like I told you before.” He sighed. “Sometimes, ‘hunting for the truth’ is pointless, or even harmful. All I’d accomplish would be disturbing those two girls. Who seem to really, genuinely be happy with their new life choice.”

“There’s no wonder you thought there might be more to it, though.” Kaede shook her head. “If anything, Angie acting like that makes me all the more suspicious. Such easy conversions, so fast? Even if both of them were already weak, which is by the way, a mega gross reason to try and convert them, there’s got to be something going on.”

“Maybe.” Shuichi shrugged. “I still don’t know. And now, it’s none of my business. Because of what just happened.”

“What did she do?”

Shuichi told her about the incident in the hospital. Kaede’s eyes were wide by the time he got to the fucking needle. “What the hell… Please tell me you’re just kidding around, Shuichi. Please.”

“Now, Kaede. You promised that this wouldn't be a big deal,” Shuichi reminded her, shaking his head. “Nobody actually got really hurt, and Angie said nobody else would get attacked…”

“She said she ‘forgave’ you, too!” As if somebody needed ‘forgiveness’ just because they had a mind of their own! Outrageous. This whole situation was far worse than even she’d suspected. “But it’s clear she’s still got a grudge. That was a power play. Way more political than anything Junko’s ever done! Politics isn’t just about speeches and elections. It’s the dynamics in a group. Angie plays it better than I’d play a grand piano. Well, almost as well.”

Except that music was a tool to bring people together, not use them in some sick plot!

“Kaede, I know that look in your eyes.”

“Shuichi, I told you before. When somebody hurts you, you can’t just shrug it off. Especially if they’re not even sorry! Angie did that just to drive you off. What’s going to happen to everyone else in the group now? She reacted so strongly to you because she knew the Black Hats weren’t gonna be ‘hers’, not totally. Not until she drove you out, or converted you too, to her… dumb… fake, made up sky god thing!”

“Is Angie really that kind of person? Is she just doing all this to amass her own power?” Shuichi wondered. “I can’t say that doesn’t fit the facts, but…”

“I can’t believe it, Shuichi. She kicked you to the curb, and you still won’t even badmouth her.”

“I know what’s happening is wrong.” Shuichi frowned at her. “That’s why I took a stand, Kaede. I was the one who decided to leave. And to leave the others behind. I know they could use somebody else’s perspective, but…” Shuichi shook his head. “Don’t compare me to you. I thought I could be like you and Kaito. If I just acted like it… ‘fake it until you make it’, like you said. It was working, too. At least, others could believe I’d gained confidence.”

Kaede wanted to object. In fact, anger was bubbling up to the surface like a flood, like she was a great lake that was about to burst its dam. Just exploding wouldn’t do any good, though. It would probably put even more stress on Shuichi, right when he needed the opposite of that.

In fact, the sickening realization, deep in the pit of her stomach, that Kaito and Kaede had pushed him to this point was doing worse things to her than the hangover could dream of.

 

“I’m so sorry, Shuichi.”

“Huh? What are you sorry about? You didn’t cause any of this. It was all my failure, as some kind of supposed ‘leader’...”

Somehow, it only made Kaede more guilty that Shuichi wasn’t yelling at her, or Kaito, or blaming them for all this. It meant to make things right, she had to push harder. “I knew there was gonna be something with Angie. Eventually. I just didn’t think she’d move so quickly. I mean, just yesterday, we were the only ones who could actually talk to each other, like human beings, instead of trading barbs. And I never saw this coming. Most importantly, way more than any of that crep. I never saw how you were hurting.”

Shuichi shook his head. “I should have told you about this whole thing, instead of keeping it to myself. In fact, eventually, I’m going to tell you everything. When I can… when I feel safe to, I’ll tell you everything I’ve been holding back.” He pulled ahead, and pulled his hat down.

“And, um. Just for the record. I didn’t just vote for you on a whim. It was because I’d strongly prefer a friend whose smile is genuine. Rather than a fake smile that goes all the time. Like a permanent lie. That’s why you won. Nobody has to wonder where they stand with you.”

Kaede’s face started out ‘very red’, although it went all the way to boiling the air around her when they were interrupted.

_“Awww! That’s, like, soooo sweet!”_

There was Hina, yep.

Coming up behind them, now in her usual bright red jacket. Which should have made her easy to spot, that and her dark complexion against the wheat-gold grass. Both of them had been a little swept up in things, though!

Hina was cooing at their little heart-to-heart, oh god. “H-Hina.” Shuichi turned an even whiter shade of pale, as if he was going to become a ghost on the spot. Kaito wouldn’t have approved of that. “H-How long have you been listening to us?”

“For a biiit,” She confessed. “Hey, though. Don’t look so worried, guys. I enjoy gossip, but only like, harmless gossip. All that sounded like pretty serious business. And, more than a little romantic, if I do say so myself~ So don’t sweat it! My lips are extra sealed. They’ll have to, like, threaten to take away my donuts before I’d tell em anything!”

Kaede rubbed her forehead. “Why did you follow us?”

“Simple. I’m bored! I mean, I could train even more, but I’m not really a fight-y person. I want to check out the other labs! Ooh, we should totally team up.” It was impressive how she turned on a dime like that.

At least if Hina was with them, they could keep track of the hyperactive swimmer girl. Kaede nodded in approval. “Fine, the more the merrier. C’mon, just ahead is…”

The unmistakable profile of a building that almost any Japanese person would recognize, instantly.

“... The National Diet Building? Oh, come on!”

It wasn’t quite like seeing the ruins of Hope’s Peak Academy on a tropical island.

It was more weird!

Especially since this building, which the sign out front proclaimed to be the Ultimate Lab of **Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Moral Compass,** wasn’t some overgrown ruin or ancient structure. No, it was the Diet building. The center of Japan’s government. The place where the elected leaders met, and did politics stuff.

Kaede wasn’t too up on what those things were, or how things worked exactly. But she knew at least what it looked like from all the TV and news reports. To be fair, the white marble, with a dome on top, could have been a government building in many countries. In fact, it looked like the sort of thing to conjure up a generic image of ‘government’ in like a textbook. Complete with a proudly flying Japanese flag, fluttering in the breeze.

The interior did not disappoint. Shuichi confirmed that this chamber was definitely where the Diet met. Or rather, it was an exacting replica of it. Complete with the center stage and podium where, presumably, Taka could practice giving speeches and yelling about rules.

He couldn’t be an actual member of the island’s ruling Council, since Junko used her underhanded tactics to beat him like a rented mule. This looked like kind of a consolation prize, though. Was that why Usami picked this as one of the ones to open up now?

Kaede was content with what they learned about this area. It all made sense to her already. She was having a bad dream, that was it. Had to be. However, both Shuichi and Hina could be persistent in a search, although it was for totally different reasons. Shuichi was determined not to let any new clues slip through, while Hina was bored and hyped up. Regardless, the two of them ripped through the Diet chambers like a hurricane, going through offices as well as each desk out front in the main hall.

“I knew I remembered the name ‘Ishimaru’ from something!” Hina slapped her palm against the table, as she laid out the news articles and clippings. “Guys, Taka’s grandfather was, like, the Prime Minister!”

“No way,” Kaede shook her head. “For real?”

“I mean, I figured everybody already knew that,” Shuichi said nervously, and then put up his hands against the glare of both ladies. “We learned this in like second grade!”

“Second grade was a long time ago,” Kaede replied, glaring. “No wonder you and Kyouko are both Ultimate Detectives, you’re both great at not telling people things.”

Shuichi held up his hands in surrender. “B-But it’s good for us to get confirmation of that! Especially in light of the Kyouko situation, in fact. With that ‘Director Kirigiri’ broadcast thing.”

“That’s just too wild, though,” Hina remarked, crossing her arms beneath her chest in a way Kaede entirely approved of. “What’s next? Somebody’s going to turn out to actually be the Prime Minister?”

Kaede laughed. “If so, they’re not doing a great job. Given they got literally voted off the island with actual torches and pitchforks.” At least with the distance of a little time, she could joke about their shared ordeal, and what they’d all gone through at the hands of the Ultimate Hunt. Besides, it was just one more larger-than-life thing in their lives now. Like the meteors.

It was all stuff from the plot of some manga or movie, more than anything that seemed real or rational.

Taka, as part of the Security force, was of course actually doing his job. So Kaede wouldn’t able to ask him about this new, or old, family development for the moment. All they could do, after Shuichi was satisfied there were no more obvious clues to be gleaned, was to move right on.

“Get hyped for swimming practice tomorrow, Shuichi!” Hina ordered him, fists balled. “I’ve got something special planned.”

“Ah, about that.” Shuichi rubbed the back of his head. “I’m gonna have to pull out of lessons. Given what happened with the Black Hats, I don’t really think, uh. Well, it’s better if I don’t show up. Everyone else can just keep swimming with you like normal.”

“Hey, it’s a _public_ pool!” Hina objected. “I’m not on one side or the other, but having to give up swimming just because of some silly drama? I’d rather literally kill somebody. Figuratively!”

Shuichi sighed. “Try not to worry about it. That goes for you too, Kaede. Honestly, in some ways… I feel like we’re both better off. At least for now, until maybe things can cool down a little.” Wouldn't that be nice? Things going back to the calm, even vacation atmosphere of yesterday?

Even on Gopher Island, though, time only went forward. Ready or not, things would keep happening around them.

They’d just need to buckle down and deal with it.

The next Ultimate Lab they ran across, with the bridge back to Central Island well in sight, belonged to none other than **the Ultimate Anthropologist, Korekiyo Shinguji.** Kaede suppressed a twinge of jealousy as she looked over the impressive building, which continued the strong trend of traditional Japanese design and architecture. She didn’t have too much time to admire the white and red structure before Kiyo himself emerged from the front doors, and waved a gloved hand in greeting.

“Huh? Kiyo, weren’t you checking out Fourth Island?” Shuichi asked.

“When a kind soul informed me about my Ultimate Lab here, there was nowhere else I’d dare to be.” Kiyo chuckled to himself beneath that black leather facemask. “Although this place may give off the impression of a temple, it is in fact more like a museum. A museum dedicated to the true beauty of humanity. How wonderful!”

There was no way around this one. They were all in for a ride.

Kaede couldn’t deny that she was a little excited, though. Kiyo himself was creepy, but she’d learned to look past that, to see his intelligent and even friendly demeanor. Plus, it was hard to deny that vaguely but non-specifically dangerous feel, the weirdness, and the fashion choices contributed to the dark-sexy edge.

“Please, dearest companions. Feel free to come in, and make yourself at home. Behold my amazing collection. In fact, I am stunned at some of these items. For as you can see from the reinforced display cases, most of these artifacts are… ancient.”

“You mean this sword? Ooh!” Hina reached over towards the nearest artifact in an open display, taking it off a base and stand into her hands. A sword and sheath, some kind of old katana. Except it was covered in gaudy gold glitter of some kind, or a leaf, which just came right off to the touch. As Hina discovered, squeaking and dropping the sword, to clatter loudly against the polished hardwood floors. “Eek! Er, um. Sorry! But this is like, a real samurai sword?”

“That’s what I believe,” Kiyo sighed, and bent over, grabbing the sword as delicately as possible. He still got that gold stuff all over his gloves as he put the sword back. Kaede could see the bits on the sheath that had rubbed off to reveal the unvarnished leather underneath. “So please, please. I implore you, especially, Hina. You as well, Kaede. Exercise the most utmost caution and respect for these wonderful items.”

“Why me?!” Both girls demanded at the same time.

“Hina, you are… hyperactive.” Kiyo clucked his tongue. “Kaede, I observe humans. It’s my purpose in this world, along with making friends for my sister. Please don’t think I failed to notice the way you can… demolish a room, when you grow sufficiently annoyed.”

Kaede blushed. “That was totally a one time thing. I think. But uh. I'll be careful.”

“Excellent. I would hate to have to _tear out your nerves.”_

Oh, that Kiyo. What a kidder.

Right?

Kaede resolved to be super careful during the investigation of Kiyo’s two-level museum exhibits. She could have summoned Mahiru to take pictures of everything, but Kaede wouldn’t feel good about pulling any more Security off the situation until things shook out.

Speaking of which. Her Hope Pad beeped, and she pulled it out to check the new message. Or rather, the three messages, chained together in her inbox due to sheer length. “Oh hey, it’s from Gundham. Looks like it’s time to come on back, Shuichi.”

Shuichi would have spent another full hour combing through the endless items and rooms of this place before he was satisfied. Kaede could see it in the detective’s eyes. However, he’d just have to come back later. “So it is.” His own Hope Pad blinked silently with the new message, and he tapped it away. “Kiyo, thanks for the tour. I’d like to come back and finish my own explorations, if that’s okay.”

“By all means,” Kiyo nodded. “Drop by anytime. Take care, you two. Hina, will you stay and behold the immaculate glory of my helmet collection?”

Hina looked to Kaede for help. “Uh, Hina, you’re being summoned by the Council, too. Sorry, Kiyo. Let’s go!”

So, they went. Quickly.

Somehow, on their way in, Kaede had managed to miss the towering, bulky figure of Nekomaru standing at the bridge. She couldn’t help but see him from Kiyo’s front door. Despite being part of Security, he wasn’t responding to the summons like everyone else, so she went over. “Hey, Nekomaru! How’s it going?”

“Ahahaha! Kaede, glad to see you again!” Nekomaru’s boisterous laugh was always good for raising spirits. His jovial nature was infectious, even on days like today. At least helping Shuichi out, and unloading about her own problems, had let off some steam.

“Same. What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, right! Junko asked me to stay here at the entrance to Fifth Island and keep an eye on things. Speaking of. Kaede! You’ve got to get yourself together, go back there, and work things out-”

Kaede held up a hand. “Please. Somebody way smarter than either of us has already given me the speech. I’m gonna go back and play ball. I promise.”

Instead of looking happy with Kaede’s surrender, Nekomaru appeared to be on the verge of very manly, and energetic, tears. “Awww, come on! Just let me have my moment for once! **I SHOULD BE THE WISE MENTOR CHARACTER, NOT A ONE-NOTE PUNCHLINE!”**

Kaede rolled her eyes. “So. Does that mean they changed their minds on locking down the island, since you’re here?”

“Nope! Ahahaha!” Nekomaru grinned. “I’m not supposed to stop anybody coming or going, but I gotta make sure nobody’s carrying out, you know.” He glanced over at Hina. “Any massive bags or something.”

Kaede’s blood ran cold. As if the entire situation, and its gravity, had rushed back to her in an instant. “I get it, yeah. That’s not bad. Try to remember who’s coming and going, just in case-”

“Hey!” Hina objected, the only one not in the loop. Lucky her. “Was that _another_ joke about my chest?! I’m getting pretty tired of those, you know!”

“W-What?! No! Absolutely not!” Nekomaru replied, outraged at the mere implication. And blushing like he was in middle school. “Hinaaaa! You know that I’m a kind, **SENSITIVE, MAAAN! _I’M SO RESPECTFUL TO GIIIIRLS!”_**

“You punched Tenko in the stomach so hard she passed out,” Kaede objected.

**“I RESPECTED HER AS A FELLOW FIGHTER, WHICH IS WHY THAT HAD TO HAPPEN! IT WASN’T A DUMB OVERREACTION ON MY PART AT ALL!”**

Shuichi tore out a few of the small pages from his notepad, and offered them to Nekomaru, along with his pen. “Here. In case you need it. It’s probably too late, but there’s no harm in being thorough, right?”

“Aha! Great idea, Shuichi!”

Shuichi saw the pat on the back coming, and narrowly avoided flying off into the ocean.

“Hey, we’re not done here! I know you’re just making fun of me with this dumb doubletalk, Coach!” Even as Hina objected, Kaede and Shuichi took that chance to slip away, and back inland.

To minimize the chance to running into anyone else, they retraced their path back up towards Mukuro’s semi-hidden base.

Kaede was sheepish as she shuffled back in. All of Security was gathered around. Minus Nekomaru, who Kaede could still vaguely hear in the distance arguing with one of his athletes. The Council was together, now that Kaede had returned.

"Hey, guys," Kaede said. "... So, how did it go?"

" _Fuck_ of a thing to ask us after up and leaving," Junko said, crossing her arms. "I mean, why did you even run for this thing if you didn't feel like _working with other people?"_

Kaede squared her shoulders. "That's not the problem, and you know- Wait, no." She held up her hands. "Let's just not do this now. Truce, Junko."

"I think this is a super perfect time to do this, Kaede." The Ultimate Fashionista was scornful. The worst part of this scorn was that Kaede deserved it. Which made it difficult to argue. "If you can't handle this kinda shit, then what happens if somebody turns up dead? Are you gonna be able to do anything?"

"D-Dead?!" Tenko froze up in shock, sweating profusely. "M-Miss Enoshima, surely you don't mean..."

"That **never** happen!" Gonta insisted forcefully. "Gonta protect everyone! Even _heathen nonbeliever filth!"_

"That's right-" Taka proclaimed, before turning towards the giant. "Wait, what was that last bit?"

"Oh, no worry." Gona smiled brightly, like a kid. His expression was worryingly unclouded by the expressions of worry most of the others had. "Gonta just getting into character for later. It just little joke among friends."

"O... kay," The Ultimate Moral Compass agreed, reluctantly. "A-Anyway! Gonta is right! We can't start doubting all our friends just because-"

"Maybe you have a point, Kaede." Junko admitted, face-palming. While careful, as ever, to avoid smudging up her carefully-caked layers of makeup. It was amazing this tropical climate hadn't defeated that stuff already, or made it clump up. How did she keep her nails like that, too, she must have been getting help from Rantaro on the side- "It's not possible to have much of a discussion here with all the, uh, like, interruptions. So, instead, let's just announce the Council's decision."

"Via majority vote. The way any truly fiendish decision is made!" Gundham belted forth with an evil laugh.

"Meaning two of the three people were here," Mahiru sighed. "Heck of a 'government', guys."

"I feel as though a group that has some trouble functioning properly is well-suited to represent us," Sakura remarked. She couldn't help a small smile across the scarred landscape of her face.

Hard to argue that.

"So, this shit is super serial," Junko continued. "I agree with Kaede that we've got to get this on lock, even if we don't have to become seven Hitlers to do it. So! We're going to use the Nerds and their newly-discovered scrap heap."

"Chihiro, that Kazuichi, and the foul woman Miu," Gundham explained. "The useful ones. Not the other 'nerds', as you humans would so childishly call them."

"I mean, Moogs did suggest that we plug up the hole in the wall with Hifumi." Junko examined her nails again. "But it wouldn't have been a super great solution, long term."

Kaede raised her hand. "Hang on. You told Tsumugi?!"

"I don't remember ever agreeing to a vow of silence," Junko snapped. "Moogs is my property now, so of course she can be counted on with even mega top secret info."

"... Property?!" Shuichi echoed in alarm.

"Never mind about the small stuff," Junko replied, raising up her hand in a V-for-victory sign, grinning pridefully. "Aaaanyway. We're gonna put guards here twenty-four-seven. We'll need everyone in Security to pitch in, and form groups of three that rotate out every, like, few hours."

"Just when we were getting some sleep." Shuichi looked down ruefully.

"Hey, it's not like the threat's gone," Junko glared. "We've just gotten way more soft on it. If we had the bodies, I'd have a fighter standing guard every night in every hotel, as well as continuous shifts on my dearest Mookie's base. But to do that, we'd have to ride you all waaaay hard. Not only would that be a shitty thing to do from a, like, human level, but way more importantly? Tired people make mistakes."

"Tired people aren't fast enough to catch Kokichi when he comes around, snooping as usual with those butterfingers," Kaede nodded. "Okay. That all makes a lot of sense. I agree completely, and support this decision. What's our long-term plan?"

Junko nodded. "Once the wall is fixed, we still have three people guarding the weapons cache regardless, day or night. Most security measures aren't meant to physically stop you, y'know."

"Humans are remarkably talented in the art of destruction and mayhem," Gundham remarked in approval. "Although it pales beneath the power of my Four Dark Devas, you needn't feel too bad. Few beings could equal their malevolence."

Like the fat orange one asleep on your scarf right now?

"Somebody could toootally smash your house's window and bust in, if they wanted to. It's just that hearing the noise would attract mondo attention. Same way a lock can be picked or broken, but that requires an investment of time, and risk. The only real security measure is people. But we can't use just one, or just two. It's gotta be three."

Nobody present needed to even ask why. After all, if there was a maximum of two traitors, then rotating guard details of three people meant that there would absolutely be a guaranteed non-traitor on guard, at all times, at the armory.

It wasn't a perfect scheme. If both the traitors had the same shift, they could overwhelm the one loyal member of Security, get a bunch of real, loaded guns, and then...

If they just wanted to rampage, though, they'd have already done it. Kaede pushed that chilling line of thought away, forcefully. The traitors had to have some other plans. Maybe, if they were very lucky, the traitors were relying on Monokuma for something. Since he got blown away by Usami's power before their sick 'game' could get underway, and wasn’t likely coming back, maybe they couldn't, or didn't want to, do anything.

it would make finding them nearly impossible. If that meant they were so 'deep cover' they never actually hurt anyone, Kaede could live with that outcome. No, maybe that was for the best. Learning that anyone close to her was, in reality, working for something as monstrous as the Ultimate Hunt would be horrifying.

"We'll call a big meeting tomorrow morning and lay this stuff all out on the table," Junko finished her announcement. "I know telling people might cause a lot of panic or fear. But let’s face facts. With this many people involved, it's impossible to keep things a secret anyhow."

"Especially when you tell others, Junko," Kaede sighed.

"Like I said, Kaebay, don't sweat the small stuff." Junko's smile revealed rows of perfectly white teeth. As usual, there was a bit of an edge to it, like the smile a wolf might give. Mukuro was was supposed to actually be the wolf. Even though this was her Lab under discussion, and she was Head of Security, she had yet to say even one word about the situation. Just deferring completely to her beloved Sister.

Kaede made sure to bury thoughts of her own sister, too. Thinking about such an unpleasant topic wouldn't serve any productive purpose. "I guess the person who busted in would obviously already know about this stuff, so it's not like we'd be depriving them of any info by keeping quiet."

"There we go, Kaebay." Junko nodded. "You're a lot more obedient now. Hey, kidding! Look. If you're willing to play ball, then me and Gundham totally are, too. Let's, like, wait more than a literal day before falling apart?"

Kaede smiled. "Agreed. And Junko? Please don't call me that anyore."

“We’ll see how things go in our social link events, darling. You might end up falling for me, too~”

Shaking Junko's hand was a weird experience, especially when Mahiru snapped a photo of it. "Hey!"

The redhead grinned mischievously. "Come on, it's a great image. Plus, my hands are tied, Councilor Akamatsu. After all, I never delete a photo once it's taken. Just ask Rantaro, heh."

"So!" Kaito bumped his fists together. "It's all decided. Mukuro, make up a schedule. Everyone but the first guard detail is free TO GO! Make sure you guys have all explored both islands by tomorrow's meeting. So we're all on the same page and we can go over clues and stuff. Oh, and for anyone who hasn't already, get Mikan to give you the cure to these damn hangovers. Usami's gonna get it tomorrow, believe you me. Always messin' around..."

As a certain dour short wannabe-edgelord might say, they had a ways to go.

But at least they could come together in the face of a real emergency.

Kaede, deep down in her heart, truly believed that.

Whatever it took, they were going to safeguard the remaining students of Hope's Peak Academy, and carry on its legacy.

Even if they were the last ones left, they'd keep moving forward.


	26. 2-4. The Ultimate Labs V (Hajime)

Is it better to know about a potential disaster you couldn’t change?

Or would you rather never know how close you came the danger?

There’s a reason they call it _blissful_ ignorance.

Hajime Hinata had never thought about that kind of stuff. In the moment, he still didn’t. He had no clue what was happening on the other side of Fifth Island. Just like he still had no clues to the true nature of his Ultimate talent.

All he knew was Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot, was somehow, in spite of having the coolest talent, one boring guy to explore with.

He’d have doubtless seen that as an insult. And probably robophobic. After the morning Hajime had, involving Ibuki, a can of spray cheese, and one of those swimming noodles, though? A little calm was just what the doctor ordered. Oh yeah. He’d need to go and grab that cure for this stupid group hangover. The sooner the better! Once he’d made sure none of the new Ultimate Labs revealed his own talent, like they had for Kyouko.

Now that they’d confirmed Usami could unveil that, it meant two very important things. The amnesiacs had to prioritize getting their Ultimate Labs so they could maybe unlock some memories. More ominously, it proved that Usami knew what their real talents were, but decided that wasn’t something she needed to tell anyone.

It was hard to imagine a legitimate reason to keep somebody’s talent and memories from them.

Kyouko, the newly-revealed Ultimate Detective, and the third person in this very odd trio, agreed with his brooding. “There’s a lot for her to account for.”

“Look!” Kiibo pointed ahead. “With my incredible robotic eyesight, I’ve spotted the next Ultimate Lab. We’ve made it back to the bridge. So while Kiyo’s lab is over there, this one must be…”

Something that the two humans had seen for a while. Neither of them wanted to remind Kiibo that his physical limits were averaged at the level of a senior citizen. Supposedly, Professor Idabashi had done that for safety reasons, but that much caution just looked like cruelty to Hajime.

The next Ultimate Lab was another one fit to throw them for a loop. Hajime said, “Looks like a town. No, wait. It’s a racetrack… styled like an urban area?”

“That makes some degree of sense, given this is Mondo’s Lab,” Kyouko remarked, pointing out the sign. **Mondo Oowada, the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader.**

With that in mind, the scene unfolding before Hajime was comprehensible. He heard the distant roar of an engine. He couldn’t see it, though. This racetrack wasn’t laid out like a normal one. It was more like a model town was built, with all the crisscrossing streets and intersections. Shaped like a donut instead of a grid. The ring of buildings, shops, and houses were just like what anyone would see on the streets of a city back home. In fact, Hajime, for just a moment, was struck with the overwhelming impression that he saw his own house.

No, it was just some other upper-middle-class home. Modest, but it was in the middle of town. Surrounded by a white wall for privacy’s sake against the narrow side-streets and alleys surrounding it. At this morning hour on a Saturday, the roads should be bustling with people. Walking to and from school or work.

The fact that there was nobody to be seen, even on the crosswalks of the larger streets, was simply eerie. Maybe it was just a racetrack dressed up like a town. After two solid weeks away from Japan, though? This was close enough to trigger that ‘uncanny valley’ effect.

He didn’t have long to ponder. “Motor vehicle approaching!” Kiibo announced, pointing with his gauntleted robot hand dead ahead. “Twelve o’clock!”

Mondo, atop the ‘real hog’ he’d longed for since day one, was clearly visible. The delinquent was born to be in that seat. His pompadour hair thing flopped slightly in the wind, in spite of, as Kokichi had suggested, what must have been gallons of hair gel. He was almost on top of them when Kiibo finally noticed the roaring motor and bright floodlight washing them. Strong enough to be clearly visible even in daylight.

“Good spotting, Kiibo.” Hajime sighed.

“Why, thank you, Hajime!”

The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader spun to a halt, grinding the bike’s progress down on the pavement. Hajime felt a moment of sheer panic, thinking Mondo was going to plow through all three of them. Instead, he arrived perfectly, stopping just in front of them with barely a meter to spare. He looked quite satisfied about that, too. “Well, well! Visitors to my part of town! Hahaha! Heyo, guys.”

Mondo never struck Hajime as a jolly person. In fact, the big, macho guy was on a hair trigger. Waiting to be insulted, preening for a fight. Kokichi had zero seconds of trouble provoking him to violence. If Hiyoko had been any gender other than female, she’d be cruising for a similar treatment too. However, as he’d told Hajime previously, part of that was just Mondo going through withdrawal symptoms. Much like Miu, but less actual drugs, and more bikes. With that cleared up, his grim-set, masculine face was lit up with joy.

“That’s quite a bike, Mondo,” Kyouko remarked impassively. She raised her calm, composed voice one notch higher to be heard over the idling beast of an engine. “Mind if I take a closer look?”

“Babe, look all you like. Touch it, rub up against it. I guarantee you can’t do more than I did when I first found this fucking beautiful hunk of metal.” Mondo sure was into that bike, huh. Kiibo looked uncomfortable.

Memories of Miu’s tender mercies. Poor guy.

Hajime wasn’t a bike enthusiast, or a mechanic. The best he could do was stand around and chit-chat with Mondo. “Kazuichi is going to love this.”

“Oh shit, you’re right, man!” Mondo nodded. “What luck. Some tropical island, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. It’s not just got a solid bike track, just like the streets of my hometown, and some real top-shit bikes. But the Ultimate Mechanic himself also just so happens to be here. Hajime, I really think our luck is turning around.”

“I have to admit, this is really cool,” Hajime nodded. He couldn’t help smiling, when even Mondo was in such a great mood.

“Interesting,” Kyouko remarked, running a gloved hand over the mirror-sheen polished chrome surface. “This racetrack is like your home?”

“Not shittin’ you, girl. It’s so close, I can find my way through these twisted streets like the back of my hand. Me and the Diamonds, this is… was, our home turf. If the Hunt wanted to go after me, they’d have to deal with all my… guys…”

Kyouko saw the way his line of thought was going, and tried to cut it off at the pass. “The Diamonds? The Crazy Diamonds, right? Your own personal gang?”

“That’s right. Ah, Makoto musta told you. That guy’s a pipsqueak, but he’s not stupid.”

“That’s not inaccurate,” Kyouko admitted. “Although your jacket also says it, too.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mondo’s jacket was looking more pure white than usual, that was true. Hajime was about to make an ‘ace detective’ joke. However, he failed to take note of that, or the embroidered name in English on the back. He had no room to talk.

“These were in the garage, other side of ‘town’. Only building I found so far with an actual inside, instead of just being like a prop. There’s more than one of these beauties, too. Found ten gorgeous ladies in total. All in great condition! Those Exisals must have a spray bottle or something in there. They’re all detailed and crap.” Given each Exisal had its own colors and markings, that made sense. “Hell, I could show all three of you how to ride an actual honest-to-fuck hoss, and maybe make you the start of my new Gopher Island branch of the Diamonds!”

“That would be… an interesting offer,” Kiibo said, guarded. “However, I do not possess any capability to pilot a vehicle with an engine. My driving protocol is strictly for pedestrian bikes.”

“Seriously?!” Mondo stared in disbelief. “How can a robot be so friggin’ lame?” They were still trying to figure that one out, too. “I mean, you’re in college, right? Who the hell doesn’t have their license by then?”

“I-I’m sure Professor Idabashi would have given me that ability, if it mattered! Or maybe he wished for me to learn it myself, as you humans do. In which case… I accept, Mondo! I will become a member of your hardcore biker gang!”

“Whoa, let’s think about this a little more, guys. I can drive a car well enough,” Hajime said. “Even stick. My dad was really old fashioned. But of course, I’m not licensed for a motorbike or anything.”

Mondo rolled his eyes. “Man, we are thousands of kilometers from home across the damn ocean! Who’s gonna come and arrest us? If that fuckin’ killjoy Usami gets on us about this, I’ll just kick her around again until she sees my side. Heh heh.” The way Mondo cracked his knuckles was clearly heard over the rumbling engine beneath him.

Hajime almost felt sorry for Usami there. Fortunately, he recovered that into feelings of mild disdain. As per usual.

“While I’m not sure about the gang lifestyle,” Kyouko said. “I will accept your offer of instruction, Mondo.”

“Kyouko?!” Hajime stared. “Seriously?”

“This could prove extremely useful, Hajime.” She explained. “We have roads, but so far, nothing to drive over them except a few ambulances. Getting from place to place quicker will improve our lives. More importantly, I can respond to situations across the island much faster, if need be.” She pointed to her pink armband, which clashed with the cool purple aesthetic of the rest of her being.

“Hah! So, that’s Kiibo, and Kyouko…. Hajime, what do you think now?”

This was a bad idea.

It was definitely a bad idea to associate with a biker gang.

_Oh, whatever._

“I’m in.”

Mondo grinned ear-to-ear. “I mean, I’m happy to teach you guys how to ride, but you gotta decide for yourselves if you’re hardcore enough to roll with the Diamonds. Plus, if there’s only ten bikes, then I can only recruit nine people. Seven, really, since I’ve already decided two of the splots. So! I’ll decide the rest after I see who can ride, and who can really ride. I’ll see who else is down for the trials later. Anyhow, c’mon. We can head over to the garage right now and get you guys started.”

“We’ve still got some exploring to do.” Hajime shrugged. “Maybe we can decide on a time later? Some kind of schedule?”

“Aw man, you’re killin’ me here, Hajime. Fine. Tomorrow after lunch, say one-thirty?” Nobody had any objections, so it was done. “Fuckin’ A. Then, it’s a promise among men.” Ah, that whole thing.

“I’m not a man,” Kyouko objected.

“I don’t really have a gender,” Kiibo added.

Hajime blinked. “You don’t?”

_Does that mean Kokichi was right-_

“I didn’t really know how to bring it up,” Kiibo explained, shuffling his feet against the sidewalk. “It’s not a big deal. Everyone, please feel free to keep calling me ‘him’ and all that... Well. I guess I can consider myself a man for the purposes of making a man’s promise.”

“Good enough for me!” Mondo nodded approvingly. “Anyone who aspires to true manhood, it don’t matter what they are or call themselves or whatever, they’re my brother.” That was actually a pretty accepting sentiment, especially from Mondo. Right on.

“But I’m _not_ a man,” Kyouko repeated.

“I’ve seen the way you roll, Kyouko. You’re close enough for me!”

Well, it was Mondo.

Thus, the pact was sealed!

Bike lessons, starting tomorrow.

Hajime was filled with the all too familiar feeling of regret. Nothing for it now. A man’s promise was definitely the kind of thing that would get Hajime punched in the face if he reneged. “Oh, one other thing, Mondo. We found Taka’s lab already, on the other side of Fifth Island.”

“No shit? Awesome! Bro is gonna be stoked!” Mondo beamed. “Yeah, this day is just about fuckin’ perfect, now!”

“So, that whole thing yesterday…?” Hajime trailed off.

“Tch. I don’t remember much of anything from yesterday,” Mondo admitted.

“Ah, I get it.” That was also why Mondo wasn’t down at all from the hangover; it was, uh, something he had more experience with. “See you around, Mondo.”

The island’s interior was made up of rolling, grassy hills. The golden wheat color of the grass reminded Hajime of farmland. That made him wonder what season they were in. That depended on what the actual date was. Information they didn’t have. All Hajime could say for sure was that this was a Saturday. It was Day 14 of this little ‘school trip’. Two full weeks had passed, living with everyone. It felt like they’d barely scratched the surface of all the mysteries here.

On a tropical island, did the season even matter? Did the people who lived here grow crops? According to what Sonia could dig up in the New World Library, Gopher Island was a big tourist destination. In that case, the island survived off its own natural beauty, which Hajime could believe. Every place they visited, every new location to explore, was interesting and even exciting.

Even if he knew he had to keep up his guard. There was no telling what they might find.

Neither of his companions seemed that guarded or concerned. Well, Kiibo was certainly a carefree, positive guy. He reminded Hajime of Makoto, and it was honestly nice to have some optimism around when Nagito was nowhere to be seen. Kyouko remained a cipher like usual, her blank expression showing only that she wasn’t too concerned about current events.

Did anything faze her?

Hajime got the answer to that surprisingly fast. Kiibo brought up something past his usual stream of smalltalk. “Hey, guys. I wonder if I might impose upon you for some… advice? I have yet to gain much life experience among humans, and I’ve been thinking.”

“Open fire,” Kyouko said.

“Yeah, go ahead, Kiibo,” Hajime nodded.

“I have been approached by Angie recently, with a **certain proposal**.”

“Decline politely,” Kyouko said.

“So decisive?!” The Ultimate Robot reacted, somehow sweatdropping. That was a handy feature for expressing his emotions. Even if Hajime really hoped he had a better cooling system than just sweating. “I mean, you didn’t even hear what Angie wanted.”

“She _wanted_ you to join her, correct?”

“Well yes. It was an invitation only to join the Black Hats. Not to try and convert me or something illogical like that.” Kiibo pointed upwards casually with one finger. “Therefore, I wanted to give it serious consideration. Because of racial prejudice, I am typically… excluded from human things. With a few notable exceptions.”

“I guess picking up trash might not be some people’s idea of a good social circle,” Hajime said. “I mean, not everyone is Nagito.” Thankfully. “Kyouko, what’s the deal?”

Kyouko didn’t reply at first, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “There’s something _wrong_ in Angie.”

“Wrong?” Hajime echoed. “Hold on, what do you mean?”

“Her behavior is less like a spiritual leader, and more like the head of a cult.”

Sheesh, blunt as ever. “Hold on, Kyouko. Isn’t that a little harsh?” Hajime shook his head. “We can make jokes all we want, but Angie hasn’t done anything bad, right? Why are you treating her like some kind of dangerous criminal?”

Kiibo nodded. “That is a strange leap to make, with all due respect. Might I inquire as to how you would make such bold accusations?”

Kyouko looked off into the distance, rather than facing either of them as they walked. “Maybe I was wrong to say anything. Kiibo, the honest truth is that you need to find your own way. And maybe there are some things you just have to see with your own two eyes. Unless you experience it yourself, you’ll never… accept that truth. In which case, feel free to go if you want.”

Hajime could barely keep up! “Wait, Kyouko. First, you said strongly that Kiibo shouldn’t even consider the offer. Then, after we ask you to explain, you turn around and say that he can do whatever he wants?”

“If it bothers you, then forget I said anything,” Kyouko said. “It’s just me guessing, after all. I have nothing solid to go on.”

“If an Ultimate Detective is ‘guessing’, then we have no choice but to treat that with a lot of weight,” Hajime said. “Hey, in the future, maybe you could be careful about that kind of speculation? I mean, careless talk…”

Kyouko fixed him with a withering glare. “Do I seem like the _careless_ type, Hajime?”

“T-That’s not what I meant to say. I just mean that…”

“Now that you know what my Ultimate talent is, suddenly what I have to say matters?” Kyouko’s mouth was a small, tight, thin line. “That’s sure something to say. I hope that’s not the standard people use to judge what you say.”

Kiibo looked helplessly from Kyouko to Hajime. Clearly unsure of what to do when mommy and daddy were fighting. Luckily, he didn’t have to break this up or convince them to stop this, because somebody else found them.

“Well, well. Trouble in paradise, guys?”

Hajime stopped in his tracks. “... Rantaro?”

His fellow amnesiac with the avocado-green hair waved, grinning like usual.

“Where have you been?” Kyouko asked cooly.

“Aw, no ‘nice to see you’? Straight to business?” Rantaro twirled a bit of his fabulous hair about, meeting Kyouko’s stare with his own. “Miss Ultimate Detective.”

“You’re one of a very few people who I can’t account for,” She said. “So I’d like to know what you were up to recently.”

Rantaro folded his arms. “Is there, uh, some reason you’re basically asking me for an alibi? Has something happened?”

Hajime looked over at Kyouko in alarm, but she shook her head. “There will be a crew meeting tomorrow after breakfast. Kaito has announced that attendance is mandatory. Until then, I can’t divulge any information.”

“Can’t talk about it, or won’t tell your friends anything?” Rantaro wondered. Kyouko stared at him in silence. “Fine, fine. Hey, are you guys doing the Ultimate Lab tour?”

“You bet,” Hajime nodded.

“Great. Maybe together, we can talk some sense into Maki. C’mon, her Lab is right up ahead.” The three adventurers shared a look, then followed along as requested. They were going that way, anyhow.

The single word Hajime would pick to describe the building was ‘nondescript’. It had the same warehouse look of the Ultimate Imposter’s lab back on Third Island. Just a block of ‘generic. modern. vaguely industrial building’ plopped down amidst the grasslands. The sign out front was clear, though. This was indeed **Maki Harukawa’s Ultimate Lab.**

Hajime to admit that his hopes were rising, like his big, thick ahoge. If two of the students with advanced memory loss were getting their labs, then maybe.

Maybe just maybe.

There were no windows looking into the building, and the door itself was barred and locked. It was a big slab of metal. More like a vault door than something used on a warehouse. It definitely got across the impression that nobody was getting in. There wasn’t even a card reader unit for Hope Pads. Just a big wheel, handle, and locks for days.

Rantaro went up and knocked on the imposing door countless times. Finally, the locks clicked, and the door’s metal groaned as it swung slightly open. Enough to reveal Maki, peeking out from the darkened interior of her lab. “You again.”

Rantaro waved. “Hey, Maki. I’ve got some friends with me this time. And Kiibo.”

“Hey!” The robot objected.

“Kidding.” Rantaro raised his hands. “Kyouko’s here, see? I don't know if you’ve heard, but she got her Ultimate Lab, too.”

“Congratulations,” Maki said, her voice devoid of any such feeling. Or any at all.

“Thanks,” Kyouko acknowledged, in a similar tone.

Oh man. A conversation between those two had to be avoided at any cost.

“Kyouko’s the Ultimate Detective. Er, the second one,” Hajime explained. “So, we’re exploring each Ultimate Lab. Do you mind if we have a quick look around?”

“Yes.” Maki stared at Hajime now with her striking red eyes. Through the gloomy darkness, and against her very pale complexion, they glowed. She was looking directly into his soul. Tough crowd.

“Come on, Maki.” Hajime sighed. “We won’t touch anything, or disturb any of your stuff.”

“No, you won’t,” Maki agreed.

Moments of awkward silence passed.

Kyouko said, “Everyone else has agreed to let people look around. Even Touko, Byakuya, and Tsumugi have all allowed it.”

Maki was unmoved. “They can do what they want with their Labs. I can do what I want with mine. Go away.”

Maki tried to swing the heavy door closed. With uncharacteristic foresight, Kiibo put his hands in there. While his strength and abilities might have been frail, he was, in fact, still made out of metal. His fingers were at minimal risk of actually being squished. “Maki, please wait a second!”

“Move those fingers, Kiibo. Or lose them,” Maki promised grimly.

“Don’t be absurd. Why can’t you just listen to-” With a sickening crunch of metal-on-metal, the heavy hatch swung completely closed. Kiibo yelped, let out a string of uncharacteristic words, and withdrew… most of his hands. But only two fingertips remained, on his thumbs. "OW!"

The other eight had indeed been crushed. They fell to the ground in scattered, sparking bits.

 _“Kiibo!”_ Rantaro grabbed the robot’s hands in alarm. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m not in the kind of agony a human would be going through,” Kiibo replied with an annoyed sigh, rolling his artificial icy-blue eyes. “Although that’s only because I’ve just turned down my pain to one percent. It still doesn’t feel good. I’ll have to ask… those three for repairs now, huh...”

“I can’t believe this,” Rantaro glared at the now closed hatchway. “That’s going too far.”

Hajime demanded, “Maki, have you gone insane?!”

 _“Yes. Go away.”_ Maki’s voice called, faintly, from inside. Lock after lock clicked into place with heavy finality.

One thing about Maki was certain. When she wanted to end a conversation, it ended.

There was nothing for it but to move on.

At least she gave Kiibo a reason to enjoy everyone doting on him for a change, as they walked to the next landmark.

Hajime was running out of ways to creatively describe the fact that the next Lab looked Japanese. Even back home, it wasn’t uncommon to see a lot of older places following that architectural tradition. More modern buildings, especially in the city, conformed to a more international or western aesthetic. This lab, suitably for **Peko Pekoyama, the Ultimate Swordswoman** , was neither International, nor Western. It was a traditional sword dojo made out of wood and stone exclusively. Two stories, with some windows, but no other frills. Certainly no groves of trees. The building was in excellent shape, with fresh wood and stone and clean layers of paint over it all. But it was also devoid of personal touches.

Sakura’s building had a more elegant look, despite her own looks. Probably because, as Hajime had learned from training with her, she wasn’t as terrifying as that dumb nickname ‘Ogre’ might suggest. Or rather, when angry, she could be that frightening, However, he had a noble, calm demeanor. Peko was even more stoic, but it seemed less about her channeling a noble warrior spirit, and more that she was, well. Mechanical. Far more machine-like than Kiibo over there.

They were working on that, but Hajime’s ability to be a stand-up comedian could only go so far.

_There’s a reason I’m always the straight man._

“Good morning, everyone,” Peko greeted them at the door. Unsurprisingly, this building was one that came with locks, although Peko didn't bunker down like Maki. Besides, anybody who wanted to harass Peko would learn, like Teruteru that one and exactly one time, what the consequences were.

Especially since hat sword bag didn’t just have a bokken, a wooden training sword, anymore. She was probably packing a real sword, which gleamed in the sunlight with a dangerous, glinting edge.

Hajime said, “You can probably guess why we’re here. Up for the grand tour, or should we get lost?”

“I’m not much of a tourguide,” Peko admitted. “However, I know that exploring the islands is our group’s practice. It’s not a terribly interesting place unless you’re planning to learn how to use a sword. But please, feel welcome.”

“Thanks, Peko,” Rantaro smiled broadly. “Oh hey, about that other thing we discussed. I’ve confirmed with Gundham. The first official meeting of the Animal Appreciation Society is tomorrow after dinner, at Central Island. Since you’re the only member so far who’s got a Lab, maybe you could offer this place as a meeting spot instead?~”

“W-We can discuss such frivolous matters later, in private,” Peko said, emphasizing the last word. Her attempts to fix a death glare on Rantaro were, as usual, totally ineffective. Probably because she was blushing.

So this was the power Kazuichi had told Hajime about. Gap moe.

As Peko said, the sword dojo was, shockingly… a sword dojo. By far, the items that stuck out the most were the racks of sharpened steel swords just sitting there in the open air. Rantaro even confirmed that they were authentic weapons, and not just showpieces.

How did he know so much about weaponry, anyhow?

Peko was proud of her new collection, of course. “It would be more meaningful if I was able to assemble this. Rather than just having it given over. But most of these blades are quite similar to ones I owned… back in my old life.”

Hearing her talk about it brought back memories to Hajime, too. Their normal lives were literally a world away, now. Had it really only been two weeks?

“Should we be concerned about this stuff, though?” Hajime wondered.

“Don’t you think I have the right to proper swords?” Peko demanded.

“O-Of course. I’m sure _you’ll_ be careful with them. The issue is the others. Especially the people among us with sticky fingers and a questionable sense of morals.”

“ _Kokichi_.” Peko frowned. “If he decides to steal from me, I may not be able to show any more mercy.”

‘That wouldn’t help anyone,” Kyouko said. “Kokichi doesn’t have enough of a death wish to test you. But if he does, please consider going easy on him. Of course, there’s an entire world between killing somebody and a verbal warning. As you’re no doubt familiar with.”

“Oh, certainly,” Peko nodded. “I wouldn’t wish to cause any incident that would trouble everyone. So don’t worry. To see Kokichi breach the sanctity of my new dojo… It would just be extremely painful.”

“You’re a big girl,” Rantaro shrugged.

“... For him.”

Both of those ladies worried Hajime.

He sighed. “This is the same issue as Maki’s lab, though. What she doesn’t realize is that she can’t keep this siege mentality up day and night. Same with you and these swords, Peko. Kyouko, even you couldn’t stake out the market all day, every day without Shuichi’s help. Everyone needs to sleep and eat.”

“Locks won’t help, either,” Kyouko nodded. “As Junko said today, they’re just a speed bump for any determined attacker. The only surefire way to guard something is with an actual, living guard.”

“Now we’re taking advice from that frivolous woman?” Peko glared, her strong, broad shoulders and thick arms crossed tightly. “I know she has authority, but it’s another matter to take everything she says seriously.”

“On this point, she’s right,” Rantaro said. “... By the way, how do we get to the second floor? I don’t see stairs, an elevator, a ramp, anything. Definitely not handicap accessible. Tsk, tsk.”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” Peko shook her head. “Unfortunately, I have no clue. As Shuichi suggested, I have searched my lab extensively. I have found no way to investigate the second floor. When I climbed the side of the building to peer into the windows, it was in abject darkness. The glass resisted my best attempts to break through.”

“That’s some glass,” Rantaro murmured. “I’ve heard of bulletproof, but swordproof?”

“What do you think, Kyouko?” Hajime asked, several questions all rolled up into one. Was Peko telling the truth? Could they do anything about it if she wasn’t? Should they come back later, when Peko was absent, and verify those claims? Was it even right to doubt a member of Security, somebody steadfast and reliable like Peko?

Even if she knew her talent, she was still in the same boat as Hajime, memory-wise. Their personalities were both fairly skeptical. So Kyouko got the full idea right away. “No choice but to let it go. For now. Hopefully you’ll find a way to check it out. Or we can get answers from Usami about why she built a place that is inaccessible.”

Peko nodded. “My apologies. I wish I could be more helpful, but this place really doesn’t provide any clues. My Lab is like me. Straight to the point.”

‘What you see is what you get,” Kiibo proclaimed, happy he’d remembered one of those pop-culture phrases. “Very well. Then there’s little point loitering here any further, is there?”

“Kiibo, come on,” Rantaro sighed. “Can’t we just hang out?”

“No, I understand,” Peko said. “You have other matters to attend to. It wouldn’t be impolite to leave, so please, feel free. I wish good fortune to your efforts.” Everyone returned her politeness, feeling like they were leaving a meeting with an actual, real-life samurai or something.

They took their leave, and Hajime checked his map. “We’re about to come full circle. Just two more to go. Then the next one after that will be Shuichi’s lab again, and we’ll have the entire island mapped out.” Usami told them there were eleven new Labs, after all.

“So, Kiibo,” Rantaro struck up a conversation with the taciturn robot as they walked by the side of the road. Even if there wasn’t likely to be any car traffic, with Mondo on the loose at full power, they didn’t feel like taking the chance. “How’s your whole ‘become human’ deal coming along? Start any race riots yet?”

“I... don’t know how to answer that,” Kiibo said. “I feel like I’ve learned so much. With every encounter, I absorb new data on human behavior. There are so many fascinating, and aberrant, examples on this island to learn from. Yet, every answer generates a new question. I feel as though the more I learn, the longer I have to go before I truly understand.”

“You know what they say,” Hajime smiled. “Ignorance is the beginning of wisdom. If you're able to figure that much out, Kiibo, then I'm sure you'll do fine.”

“How about you, Kyouko?” Rantaro asked.

“Hm?” Kyouko spared a glance over at the playful pale pretty person.

“How’s your own progress towards becoming human?~”

Rantaro’s award for that clever quip was a completely blank stare and stone-cold silence.

“Kidding! I’m only joking around, sheesh. What’s got you so wound up today? Did something big really happen?”

Kyouko silently led them straight up to another sports field type Lab. It was little surprise to see the sign, once Hajime realized this was a tennis court. Indeed, this had to belong, as the sign said, to **Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Tennis Pro.** Another athlete among their group, and definitely the strangest one of all.Like its owner, the lab was a touch small, compared to Akane or Leon’s Labs. However, it was excellently maintained. Unlike the wild growth, or derelict overgrowth, of the others.

A net was hung up, cutting the court in half, as it was further divided by white lines into the bits that probably meant things Hajime didn’t know. He wasn’t big into sports. He noticed some kind of building, probably a storage shed or something, standing beside the grounds, where-

**“AAAAAHHHHHHHH! PARIS HILTON! SAVE ME!”**

Hajime blinked.

“What the hell-”

**_Boom!_ **

A meteor landed right in his face.

Its thunderous impact kicked up a ton of dirt, and sent shockwaves through the ground. They rattled Hajime to his core. It was like the ground in front of him just decided to explode, throwing the group into chaos. He could hear the others yelling in surprise. Especially at a second, similar impact behind them.

It felt a lot like that first night, when they were being shot at by actual goddamn artillery.

Hajime couldn’t believe the reason for that. He saw a tennis ball in the midst of each impact crater. Dust and dirt cleared from the air, and he coughed into a short sleeve.

Emerging from the smoke was the surprisingly meaning figure of Ryoma. Wrapped in his usual leather jacket over striped pants look. Complete with cute little beanie. Tennis racket in hand, though. Calmly juggling a ball of the same type he’d just launched like a rocket. “Oh, hey guys.”

“Waaah! Saaaave me!” No, it wasn't a squealing baby pig that had found its way behind Hajime, and was sobbing up at him. That was in fact Teruteru, the Ultimate Chef. A big part of why people could find comfort and peace on this island, given his daily, excellent meals. However, he was also a big threat to that comfort in peace in various other ways. “H-Hajime, he’s gonna kill me!”

“What?!”

“Oh, come on, you big baby.” Ryoma rolled those beady black eyes. “I’m just messing around. Hajime, could you move for a second?“

“P-Please help, you guys!” Teruteru pleaded, pitifully. All traces of the refinement and fancy airs he loved to put on had vanished in primal fear. “A-All of this is over a truly ridiculous situation!”

“No doubt of that,” Rantaro sighed, stepping in front of both Hajime and Teruteru. “What’s going on, buddy?”

“I told him, Rantaro. I warned him over and over. He just wouldn’t stop.” Ryoma shook his head. “I told him. One more joke about _**balls**_. Just one more…” He pulled his beanie lower, shading his face ominously in the morning light. “Actions gotta have consequences. And you’ve got to _assert_ your boundaries. That something I learned well in prison.”

 _“I bet he learned a lot of things in jail,”_ Teruteru chuckled. Apparently, now that multiple bodies were between him and the powerful, if small, athlete, he was getting some of that classic, annoying attitude back. His recovery time was amazing. “Thanks for the rescue, guys! Teach this midget that his brutish actions won’t be tolerated against a man of refinement, a valued member of the community like myself!”

“Don’t get cocky literally the second you’re not in danger,” Hajime sighed. “And please, shut your mouth? Actually, consider that my standing request.”

“Aww…”

“Ryoma, I understand the feeling of being bullied,” Kiibo said. “However, violence is not the answer.”

Kyouko stepped forward as well. “I would think that, of all people, _you’d_ know that, Ryoma.”

It was amazing how she could just walk up to an ex-convict, one who had actually been convicted of murder, and just say that. Moreover, it had a profound, and immediate, effect. Ryoma’s menacing aura, that even a normal person like Hajime could feel, evaporated into the humid tropical air. Ryoma let out a deep sigh, looked down, and tossed his racket aside.

“Goddamn. I was just messing around, guys.”

“That was obvious,” Kyouko shook her head. “I’m not trying to be insulting, Ryoma. You really do have the most experience with actually hurting people here, without a doubt. So that’s why I’m confident you wouldn’t do it lightly.”

“Well, unless me or Hajime are secretly like, Ultimate Supervillains,” Rantaro chuckled. “Then _we’d_ be the biggest criminals on the island.”

_Yeah, right._

“So… he _wasn’t_ going to hurt me?” Teruteru asked.

“If Ryoma wanted to kill you, he’d only need one shot,” Kyouko said, as if she was discussing the weather. "I saw two."

“Hahaha… I guess I should keep that in mind… Uh, y-you guys are here to check out all the Labs, right?” Teruteru asked, pressing his fingers together feebly. “That’s totally why I was around here, too. L-Let’s party up, so I’ll be safe! I mean, for all our safety. Safety in numbers.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Ryoma, is it okay if we look around here?”

“Be my guests,” The embittered tennis player gestured grandly behind him. “It’s just a field and a locker room. Suitable for all your tennis needs, and little else. Oh, except a wonderful little reminder Usami left me in the locker room. _Tch_.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t lock a field even if I wanted, so have at it. Later.”

He tried to leave. Hajime said, “You’re going? Why?”

“This place brings up a lot of memories I’d rather forget. You know, Usami never considered that maybe, some parts of the past should stay buried.” Trying to convince Ryoma to stay andchat was fruitless. The look in his black eyes made that clear. Ryoma just brushed their words off off, and took his leave back down the road.

“At least you guys have still got me here,” Teruteru said.

“Wonderful,” Kiibo remarked, arms wide as he emulated Hajime’s eye-rolling from earlier. Another proud step along the path of his development. Hajime couldn’t help feeling like a proud parent in a small way. “Just what we needed. Somebody else to ask if I have a dick.”

Ryoma was right about the outside of the lab. Like Peko’s facility, it was just what could be expected. Hajime was relieved. Anything that was simple was welcome at the moment. Even though he wasn’t aware of the full circumstances, he did know that the tension level on Gopher Island was skyrocketing. He could see it in everyone around. Not just from the group hangover. Although that no doubt played a part.

Hajime was no good at sports, even with Sakura’s recent training making him a lot stronger. Kiibo was missing some of his hands, and wasn’t especially coordinated either. Kyouko wasn’t up for it. Teruteru was, likewise, not athletically inclined. To put it mildly. He looked like a living marshmallow, just with a deeper skin tone and rosy cheeks.

Unless they invented a sport for shoving sweets in your mouth. Teruteru might win that one. Presuming Akane was busy being useless somewhere else.

Although Rantaro wanted to do some one-on-one games, he had no partner. “Oh well. At least they have tons of practice machines and stuff here. Hmm. Hey, I wonder if they could hit somebody hard enough to cause an injury if you messed with the settings. Could be a health hazard.”

“I doubt a dangerous thing like that would be here,” Kiibo said. “Then again, given the other labs so far, it’s far from impossible. I will stay and investigate this machine with Rantaro. Hajime and Kyouko, would you mind checking out the locker room and showers that Ryoma told us about in side?”

“You know, I could help with that as well-”

 _I see that nosebleed, asshole._  A frozen, awkward smile was all he got out of Hajime. “We’re good. Thanks, Teruteru.”

The inside was more interesting. It was immediately apparent what Ryoma had been talking about. That little surprise, that reminder of his status. “This isn’t like an athletic locker room, it’s set up more like…”

“The showers and bathrooms in a jail,” Kyouko confirmed. “I see. This Lab reflects not just that Ryoma is a great tennis player. But also that he was what some called the Ultimate Prisoner, as well.”

“I can’t believe that HPA would actually take on a convicted murderer,” Hajime said. “Then again, I’ve spoken to Ryoma a few times, and I can’t believe he really took out a mafia, either.”

“I think it’s quite plausible,” Kyouko said. “Whether or not the story is entirely true as reported, or Ryoma is embellishing, is difficult to establish. But even now, he doesn’t sound proud of what happened. Understandably so, he’s… conflicted.” She examined every wall for hidden mechanisms, weak points, clues, or anything. Even though they confirmed the building wasn’t very large, and its outer and inner walls matched up very closely. Far too close to hide even some kind of secret crawlspace or compartment. Even for somebody tiny like Ryoma. “I can relate.”

“Hm? Did you say something, Kyouko?”

“Nevermind.”

Hajime had grown experienced at getting to know people, and even learning their stories. As somebody had unflatteringly described it, his face was ‘harmless’. People tended to freely talk around, and to him. Even with things they might not reveal to others. Kyouko, however, wasn’t like that. Regardless of who was asking, or what they asked, she was cagey at best.

Hajime left Ryoma’s lab, and headed out on the path, none the wiser about what was getting to Kyouko.

"I can't account for one of the two remaining labs," Kyouko said. "However, I can tell you that there's one I've been to, that none of you have. Hopefully. It's only known to Security and select others, like the new 'government'." She gestured in the direction of the columns of smoke rising from the forest. "Near the coastline, surrounded by thick trees. It's not possible to just hide it, or keep this under wraps. So, we're going to release information about it tomorrow after breakfast."

"What is the purpose of all this secrecy?" Kiibo asked. "What's really going on, Kyouko?"

"Everyone asks me that. I have the same answer for each and every one of you." Kyouko wagged her gloved index finger. "Tomorrow. All I'll say is that you couldn't get in if you wanted. We've posted guards. In fact, I think my shift starts in a few hours."

Hajime's group accounted for the tenth lab in that manner. Whether or not Hajime liked it, he had no reason to doubt Kyouko was telling the truth. He didn't want to be a bother, even with that burning curiosity. What if the lab that was causing this situation was Rantaro's? Or his? Considering Kyouko and Maki both got their Labs, and thus had to know about their talents now...

That's right. Maki.

"What are we gonna do about Maki?" Hajime wondered. "Why is she freaking out so badly?"

"There's nothing to do until she comes out. Unless we want to use force." Kyouko shook her head. "Why bother fighting for what we're going to get anyway? Like you said, she'll need to sleep and eat. Alongside other needs. Assuming her lab doesn't have proper facilities."

"Oh man. _Rawr_.”Teruteru heavily approved, the creep. “I was already happy that dangerous-looking girl was staying shut up by herself. But that thought makes it even better," He chuckled darkly, his eyes growing worryingly intense. “The desperation, the building pressure…”

"You've really got no limits, huh?" Hajime sighed.

"Just two! No foodplay, and no mothers."

_Don't sound so proud just from that, please._

The investigation continued, but bore no more fruit. They did another entire circuit of the island, in fact, searching for the last lab or any other clue. Much to Teruteru's loud chagrin as they walked. They found nothing. No hidden paths or side-streets. No secret bases or magic portals or whatever.

At least they could finally head over to the Hospital on Fourth Island. Mikan was euphoric, even literally orgasmic, to see new patients in need of her services.

She administered thick, intense, heavy doses to each of them in turn. Regardless of how they begged her to stop.

Hajime was already in a danger zone, given how vulnerable he’d been in front of Mikan before, fainting more than once. If he ever actually got sick, or otherwise needed Mikan’s care in a sustained manner? He was done for.

After they each received the cure, and a benediction from Atua for their health, Kiibo told the others he’d be staying at the Hospital with the Black Hats. Which still didn’t include Shuichi, oddly enough. He must have been busy with whatever Kyouko had alluded to earlier.

After all the exploring was done, and everyone gathered for lunch, the day slowed down, and the rest of the party went their separate ways. Since the official meeting wasn't until tomorrow, rumors were buzzing across Teruteru's open-air restaurant. Especially given that several members of the crew were not present at lunch, and Kaito wasn't complaining about it.

Shuichi among them.

Wasn’t it basically Kaito’s reason for being to boss him around?

More worryingly, Hajime hadn’t seen Nagito since breakfast. He was MIA all day, in fact. Despite Hajime checking the length and breadth of all six available islands, back and forth, from boredom. No Nagito to be found in any of the places he checked. Nobody gave useful hints, aside from ‘I saw him some hours ago and we said ‘hi’.’ That was the extent of Hajime’s findings.

The rest of the day went slowly, because of the anticipation and tension in the air. Hajime was at least able to spend some time with Ibuki, Chiaki, and Kaede, and forget his troubles until sunset.

When he was returning to his cabin, more for lack of things to do than from being too tired to press on, he finally saw him.

Nagito, entering the hotel gates. “Ah, hello there, Hajime.”

“Where the heck have you been all day?” Hajime asked.

“Aw, worrying about me? How sweet. I’ve just been checking out the forests on the new islands. It might not seem like Gopher Island is all that big. But there’s a ton more locations now.”

“I bet going off the beaten path wasn’t easy.”

“Nope. Took me all day just to be reasonably sure that I wouldn’t be finding the eleventh lab.” Nagito shrugged. “Weird, huh? It doesn’t match up with what Usami said.”

“There’s a shocker,” Hajime said, sour. “It feels like she’s more miss than hit these days. Especially now. She’s just totally unavailable most of the day. I managed to get her to appear briefly before dinner, but she says she’s super busy all of a sudden. With what?”

Nagito shrugged. “I’m not sure we’ll ever understand what’s really going on with that rabbit. At least I’m convinced she has good intentions now. Even if that could still mean a lot of dangerous things. Even the noblest of goals can lead people down the wrong path, right? Oh well. Good night!”

“Yeah, good- N-Nagito, what are you...?! Mmmph!”

Right there. On the cobblestone walkway between all the cabins. In plain view of anyone.

Nagito pulled him in for a kiss.

While they were practically the same height, Nagito had about one centimeter on Hajime, as well as the initiative. In moments, Hajime was pressed up against his own cabin door, surrounded by Nagito as much as possible given his lean figure. When their bodies pressed together, Hajime felt the warmth and softness. Nagito's arms wrapped around him in a hug. Hajime closed his eyes on natural instinct.

While he was surprised, he certainly didn't resist. In fact, he melted against the determined Nagito, letting him set the tempo, following eagerly along. Tongues, lips, bodies, it was like a dance. A kind of dancing Hajime had no experience in. But with enough enthusiasm, he hoped to overcome that.

It wasn't bad, really. A surprise, but he could go with the flow for once, and forget the rest of the world.

That is, until he heard a few mechanical _clicks_ , and opened his eyes.

Nagito's intensity, right there, peering back at him was one thing. The taste of his mouth, which was fortunately clear of any of the stench his breath had last night from all the drinking, was another thing that took up space in Hajime's overworked mind. His blush got a lot worse when he finally saw the source of that clicking.

Chiaki and Mahiru, standing there. Taking in the view.

Chiaki had her portable gaming thing in one hand. Although for once, it hung loosely by her side, its small speakers softly making a variety of midi noises she ignored. Chiaki’s eyes were fixed up, on the real world. On him. It just had to be right at that moment, though. Of course, Mahiru's own expression was concealed behind her DLSR camera, save for the biggest grin of her life.

Nagito heard it too. He released Hajime's lips, glancing sideways. His eyes were half lidded. His voice was far deeper than usual, and passing right by Hajime's ear, it made the other boy shiver. "Do you mind, Mahiru?"

"Not at all. Please go right ahead."

Hajime stared at Chiaki, She stared back, blankly. There was no hint of any expression on her soft face, or in her thoughtful, hazy purple eyes. Hajime still sensed the danger. "Uh, this, isn't, uh, what it looks like-"

"Too much information." She went over to her cabin without any further comment.

"Well, you guys are in public," Mahiru shrugged. "So this is what happens. Understand what I'm saying?"

Hajime nodded. "Yeah, it's just, uh. Yeah." They were right out there, and anyone could discover them. If Teruteru walked in, for instance, things would go from bad to worse. "In that case, Nagito, could you... hey!" The white-haired boy grabbed Hajime's Hope Pad, swiped the door open, and pulled back of them inside. “Whoa!”

Before closing it back up again and clicking the lock into place.

Hajime protested pretty weakly, almost as if he didn’t really mind all that much. Even if he had to wonder what exactly had gotten into Nagito all of a sudden. This new aggression, it was moving way faster than Hajime was prepared for, physically or emotionally. So he shook his head. "I'm pretty sure she wasn't just saying 'get a room'!"

"I can't hear stupid things, Hajime. Sorry. So, shall we continue?~"

It took a while to get things sorted out that night.

Not that Hajime could say making out with Nagito all over his cabin, _all over_ , on nearly any flat surface, was unpleasant.

Far from it.

There was just going to be a lot of explaining to Chiaki tomorrow. Hopefully. If she was willing to listen. Well, if nothing else, Hajime wasn’t worried about that meeting, anymore. More pressing mysteries consumed him. Like ‘where did Nagito learn to kiss that well’?

It went on the Nagito Mystery Pile with all the others. A pile growing ever larger as the days went by in this beautiful paradise.

On that blissfully ignorant note, the second full week of everyone’s stay on Gopher Island ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all your continued reading, comments, kudos, all the support, the interactions on the official Discord, everything. It's really carried me through some tough times this year to know a bunch of people, somehow, enjoy my work. I almost got this done in time to brag about my birthday, so I'll brag anyhow. July 1st was my birthday! Happy birthday to me~ 
> 
> Also of note: We're slowly approaching the six month anniversary of the start of the Voyage. There's still so much to go. Hitting 200k words on the main story is just the beginning of my grand plans.
> 
> Next up, it's time for another round of Free Time Events! **Voting Time is over!** Requests in general are still welcome, as well as all your lovely feedback. I really appreciate it all, seriously. Thank you.


	27. 2-5. The Buddy System (Shuichi)

Shuichi left the concrete perimeter wall like a prisoner released.

He greeted the warmth and sky-burning brilliance of the rising sun with a stretch and a hearty yawn.

The Ultimate Detective would have strongly preferred to keep up the ‘actually getting enough sleep’ thing. With all the new requirements on Security, like three-person guard details and the island-wide search, it couldn’t be helped.

Then again, given recent events, he felt like he couldn’t keep busy enough. His shift alongside Nekomaru and Mahiru helped. Neither of them were types to tolerate despair. It felt like he got to know them better, too.

Mahiru wasn’t happy about becoming the crew’s police photographer. She strongly preferred to take photos of smiling people, and only begrudgingly lent her Ultimate talent to the team because of her strong sense of responsibility.

Nekomaru displayed a surprisingly thoughtful, and even philosophical, side. He explained how hatred and bigotry were pointless. A lesson that hadn’t been really getting through to Tenko, until yesterday. His pupil was finally listening.

Shuichi made plans to meet later, like co-workers going out for a drink. Not that Mahiru would have let either of the guys drink in her presence without a lecture.

Together, they shambled their sleep-deprived bodies right over to the Lagniappe for the big meeting.

Where Usami was missing.

Again.

The meetings were too common for some. Nobody had to be dragged kicking and screaming today, though. A world-class, tastebud-obliterating breakfast from the Ultimate Chef, Teruteru, helped. However, the subject of today’s meeting was really the thing that brought everyone together.

The only absentees were their erstwhile ‘Professor’, and, of course, Maki.

Gatherings of the entire crew took on a formal dimension in the wake of the Ultimate Election. People had actual jobs. Shuichi himself, alongside all the other members of Security, sported not just bags under their eyes, but pink armbands. The seating arrangement featured the Council, Kaito, and Mukuro sitting front and center at their own table. They talked among themselves privately during breakfast, although thanks to Gundham, listening in was easy.

Taka stood diligently to the side of their table. Having hastily shoveled down some of his Bro’s pancakes earlier, he could stand watch like a hawk. While he was normally dressed in white, today it wasn’t his normal uniform. Instead, it was a coat matching Mondo’s. And Chihiro’s, for that matter. Spoils from the new Lab, huh.

The exits to Teruteru’s restaurant were guarded by the towering mountain known as the Ultimate Martial Artist, Sakura. People were allowed to enter, but not leave without a good reason. Sakura was clearly not in the mood for jokes. Even Kokichi decided discretion was the better part of valor.

Everyone else was generally sitting by class, at three long tables. Although that wasn’t strictly enforced. Chihiro and Mikan, for instance, were over by Class 53. Sitting to either side of a pleased-as-punch, punchable Angie. The three of them, plus an uncomfortable looking Tenko to Mikan’s left, said a prayer to Atua before starting in on their food.

It was just four people now. How long would it stay that way?

Shuichi went at his lavish, exotic foreign dishes with vigor, to push dark thoughts from his mind. It didn’t work, and brooding about the Black Hats consumed him. His worries hovered like a dark cloud over this pastoral gathering.

Soon enough, the mood would turn darker everywhere. So he didn’t bother very hard to try and cheer up. Soon, everyone would understand what the whole fuss was about. There was going to be plenty of fallout.

Even just by looking at where everyone sat for breakfast, even a total stranger could tell the mood had changed. Everything had changed in just two days.

Nobody on these islands were total strangers anymore. Not even prickly edgelord Fuyuhiko over there in the corner. Peko was always stuck with trying to get the babyfaced gangster to play along. Or rather, Shuichi scribbled down in his notes, she always volunteered for such jobs.

Why?

“Can’t we start the damn meeting already?” Mondo demanded, from the front of Table 1. “I mean, what’s the difference if some of us are still eating? Everyone here has _ears_ , last I checked.”

“Normally it wouldn’t matter,” Kaede admitted, her voice amplified by her desk mic so it boomed throughout the open-air restaurant. Right over the clinking of class and silverware, and the chatter of conversation. “Today’s special, though. So just wait a bit longer, please. Once everyone has finished…” She glanced over at Akane and Twogami. Busily consuming literally dozens of plates of food, while having a tense stare down between heated rivals. “Once _most of us_ are finished, we can begin.”

No wonder. It was better for everyone to enjoy one more meal in peace.

Finally, Kaito could slam his hands onto the table. As was his wont. Silverware clattered and chattered in complaint from the force.

“Alright! I call this meeting to order. First item on the agenda-”

“Hey, hey! Kaito darling! Say it! Saaay it!”

“-Is _not_ whatever Kokichi is going on about,” Kaito continued, steamrolling right over the liar. “But instead, about the new islands. Fourth Island has some good stuff. Most importantly, a **Hospital**. Stocked with everything we’ll ever need.”

“Fuck yeah!” Miu cheered from the back of Table 53.

Kaito sighed into his mic. “Relatedly, the Council is announcing a new drug policy. Just like back in Japan, you can only get prescription drugs if, you know. You need them for a fucking medical reason? Mikan’s got the only Hope Pad that can get into the drug storage area, so we should have this on lock.”

"Fascist pigs!" Miu snarled. “That’s discrimination! I have, like, rights and shit!”

“Technically speaking, you really don’t,” Tsumugi murmured from Shuichi’s right. Too quietly to carry to the rampaging Ultimate Inventor.

“Ehe." Mikan's meek, quiet, timid voice could barely be heard over the crash of waves outside. "I’ll do my best t-to ensure legitimate uses and proper dosages. I’m not a full doctor, and there are many things I still don’t understand, but I hope you’ll take good care of me.”

Oh yeah. Shuichi had a good feeling about _that_.

“There are some other cool places, which should help us live more comfortably here,” Kaede continued. “A music venue, old electronics stores, a movie theater, the bathhouse, and… well.”

“A slice of a hellish new dimension opening into our false paradise!” Gundham boomed. “Brought forth by the Creator God to try and stop me, no doubt. In which, it will fail. You will find the place a far greater challenge. In fact, the facility, a **prison** of extraordinary power, cannot be damaged by any mere human weapon or technique! An invincible fortress of terror! Ahahahaha!”

“Yyyyyeah,” Junko sighed. “It’s true, though. I had Mookie shoot a few rockets and grenades at the thing last night. We may as well call it Honey Badger Maximum Security Prison. Because it don’t give a fuck.”

“I thought some asshole was shooting fireworks left over from the festival,” Leon freaked out. Quite understandably. “But it was that?! Where the hell did you guys even get all that?”

“What a wonderful find, Gundham!” Sonia cheered him on, raising her glass to toast alone. “Now, should it become necessary, troublemakers may be contained if they go against the best interests of the group.”

“Hang on, we’re locking people up, now?!” Hiro shook his head. “Dude, maybe Kokichi was right about Piano Freak all along…”

When the fortuneteller insulted Shuichi, he brushed it off. However, when Hiro talked in that manner about Kaede, Shuichi couldn’t help but tense up and peer at the back of his head with disdain. Not that it would reach through that gigantic brown afro thing on his head. What was that, a sea urchin?

Anyhow, Junko had let a very critical detail slip just then, hadn’t she? A rare mistake for such a deceptively intelligent and forceful personality. Now everyone was getting worried.

Maybe she just ascribed to the ‘band-aid’ theory of bad news.

“Um. O-One moment, everyone! Please stay calm.” Kaede turned to look at the Ultimate Fashionista. _“Christ almighty, Junko! Could you maybe consult us before you order a bombing run on the island?”_

 _“Heeey! Loosen up. It all turned out okay anyway, Kayaday. My Mookie is a trained expert, and she’s suuuper badass. So it’s all fine.”_ Junko’s voice came through the speakers, too. Although much lower and more… distant, somehow. It was soon apparent why. Junko’s grin widened and darkened. _“Oh, and b t dubs? You left your mic on~”_

Kaede blushing was too cute to handle.

Himiko, seated to Shuichi’s left, grumbled. “Nyeh… My magic could bust through that place, no problem. If only I had more MP. I’m clearly not drinking powerful enough mana potions…” Where was she finding anything on this island she could mistake for a potion?

“Oh, and Kokichi! The Council just voted unanimously to say you’ve gotta give up that damn key,” Kaito announced. “So, fork it over!”

“Oh, uh. About that, babe...” Kokichi examined his nails.

“Please try to resist,” Kaito pleaded. “Give me a reason to test out this ‘invincible’ Brig on your sorry ass.”

“How are you going to do that if I had the key?~”

“The Brig? Isn’t it a prison?” Hina asked from the very back, seated near the door, having to shout. Yet still rising her hand politely, like they were still in school.

“W-Well, technically. But I thought ‘brig’ went with the whole ‘crew’ thing. Like, throw somebody in the Brig. F-For instance, this jerk right here! Whadda ya mean, ‘had’?!” Kaito had his own kind of cuteness, too. Especially when he struggled to cover it up with manly manfulness and aggression. It reminded Shuichi of Kaede’s penchant for making up code names.

“I’m not saying I _won’t_ give up the key,” Kokichi explained sadly. “I just _can’t_ , you see. It was totally stolen from my cabin last night, while I slept.”

“Oh, really?” Junko asked, eyes narrowed.

“Definitely. It’s not a lie.”

Tenko sighed. “Well, if he’s not lying, then we’ve got another instance of theft.”

Kazuichi yelled across his table, “Are you kidding me?! Are you seriously that feeble-minded, Tenko?!”

“Silence, de-… cent person?!” Tenko caught herself mid-sentence under Nekomaru’s withering, knuckle-cracking glare. “Heh… heh?” She sweatdropped, pushing her fingers together penitently.

“Ha! What kinda insult is that?” Kazuichi grinned lecherously, comically and cosmically missing the point. “Are you really in some kinda demented drug haze? I guess all the members of your freaky sex-cult are really getting into it, huh?!”

Angie stabbed a fork through a sausage with enough force to rattle Class 53’s table. She held it up to examine the metal speared forcefully through thick meat. Her expression was calm, impassive, and frozen. “Angie thinks that Kazuichi needs to chill out. We’re all friends here.”

“T-T-T-That’s right!” Mikan squeaked. “We only did a little drugs! … Eek!”

“She means we worked on the headache cure,” Chihiro sighed. “Sorry, everyone. Could we just, like, move on?”

“Yeah, this whole thing about Angie’s… new faith isn’t on the agenda,” Kaede said. “We’re getting sidetracked.”

“Keep ignoring those looming issues, blonde bitch,” Hiyoko smirked maliciously. “That’ll work out well for you.”

Shuichi would throw down with an eight year old, _don’t think he wouldn’t-_

“Hiyoko! We talked about this!” Mahiru scolded, as if she really was talking to an eight year old child. Instead of, you know, a university student.

Here came the waterworks. How transparent, how predictable. “B-B-But Mahiru….”

Rantaro dabbed the fake tears with a Hanamura napkin and rolled his eyes. “Hiyoko, come on. The adults are talking. Honestly, why do we even take her to these, honey?”

“F-Fuck off, bastard, you’re not my real big bro...”

“Aaaanyway. Somebody broke my lock, got in without me waking up, and took the key,” Kokichi repeated his claim. Ironically, he got the meeting back on track, since the track was grilling him. “Seriously. I’m for super serial here.”

“The more he says it, the more convinced I become,” Byakuya smirked.

“I know, right?!” Hiro agreed.

“Stop talking.”

“It’s plausible, though,” Ibuki admitted. “Ibuki has broken into many cabins recently.”

“That’s not something to proudly admit to!” Kazuichi protested. “Especially right now.”

“I wondered who that was,” Byakuya turned over towards her, his smug expression melting into a snarl. “I swear, in the name of my family. You will pay grievously, punk woman.”

“Oh no~ Ibuki is so scared.” Ibuki giggled playfully, leaning over to the side, against the larger, kinder version of the Togami heir. “She’ll just need to let her big, bad boyfriend protect her~ Ibuki should cling to him more and more, right?~”

“I-Ibuki, I’m still eating here! Show some decorum, we’re in public!”

“So when we’re in private, Ibuki can do as she likes?”

Relationships among the Ultimates were becoming open secrets in such a small, tight-knit group. Makoto, Sayaka, and even Kyouko sat together so often. Today was no exception. Shuichi could even see the idol’s hands and feet getting a little aggressive, when she thought everyone was distracted.

Nothing too risky. Just enough to tease the innocent Makoto and turn him red.

Then she started trying the same with Kyouko. Only for her to leap up from her seat. “I-It’s a good point, though!” Kyouko spoke up over the crowd. The revelation of her talent had already spread far and wide, and it gave her words a lot more weight. The chatter and tangents died off as she stood up and walked over to Kokichi, regaining her icy cool. “I suppose if we checked your cabin door, Kokichi, we would find it broken. The only question is who broke it.”

“Tch.” Kokichi glowered up at her from his seat. “Watch out, guys. We’re dealing with a real badass now. Ace Detective, huh? Even though you still haven’t gotten back your memories, you’re going to challenge the Ultimate Supreme Leader?” His face morphed into a ghastly clown’s mask. That unnaturally big smile was unable to hide the menace behind his eyes. “You’re a thousand years too early to try that, Kyouko dear.”

“Ahem.” Shuichi cleared his throat. “With the new crime lab technology in my Ultimate Lab, I could just analyze the door and try to find out who broke it.”

The little liar beamed. “That sounds marvelous, darling Shuichi! See, Kyouko, why can’t you be more like him? The real Ultimate Detective!” Kyouko stared down at him, expression coldly impassive.

She returned to her seat.

Kaito shook his head. “We’ll get to you later, bastard. Before we get lost in weird-ass tangents yet again, let’s wrap up Fourth Island. As with last time, Mahiru got a lot of great shots. They’re being laid out on the table over there. Make sure you check it out if you haven’t seen something personally. It’s important we’re all on the same page with some of this. Especially our next item, an alarming pair of clues.”

Junko sighed into the mic. “Item one. **The Gopher Project Manifest**. Or at least the parts that weren’t corrupted and censored. Aka, literally just a list of names. Thrilling, I know.”

“It’s clear the Gopher Project is the HPA initiative to evacuate us out here. The list is almost a comprehensive one of our group.” Kaede said. She explained the discrepancies. Three names missing. **Hajime, Chiaki, and Kiibo**. And **Izuru Kamukura** , the beloved founder of Hope’s Peak Academy, _was_ listed. “A pretty cool little symbolic gesture, in my opinion. It means that we’re carrying the founder’s spirit with us wherever we go!”

“Or,” Hajime suggested, “Usami’s keeping something from us. Again.” It was easy to cast aspersions about somebody who wasn’t present, but that was her own fault anyhow. What was she even doing that took up so much time and focus? “ And before you all ask, the three of us don’t have any clue why we’re not on the list.”

Shuichi had a feeling that list would turn out to be important. In the moment, it wasn’t.

Certainly, it didn’t evoke the raw emotion if clue number two.

“Okay, for this next one, everybody should stay calm. Remember that we don’t need to jump to any-” Kaede was cut off mid-sentence by Junko.

“ **‘The Mastermind of both Killing Games has lost their memory.’** That’s what it said.”

You could have heard a pen drop in the silence that followed.

In fact, Kiyo did drop the pen he was using to keep his Humanity Observation Journal. The long-haired, androgynous observer crawled under the table near Shuichi. Which was a little awkward. “Dear me, dear me. Everyone looks like they’ve just seen four ghosts. Or three, perhaps. Another ‘clue’ that troubles us more than it helps. Almost as if that were the point, eh Shuichi?”

Shuichi nodded. “You’re right. I don’t like how all eyes on the room are going towards them.”

In a moment, the three people who lost their memories were the center of attention.

The epicenter of a gathering storm.

Nobody had to say a word to convey the building atmosphere of alarm, of paranoia, of- “S-So, what do you knaves have to say about this?!” Hifumi demanded, pointing an accusatory pudgy finger at the nearest one, Kyouko. “C-Can you give any insight, Mistress Kyouko Kirigiri?!”

“No,” She replied.

“Oh, I see.” Hifumi did a double-take, with his usual goofy reaction face, as though he were livestreaming this. “Whaaat!? Is that it?! I mean, surely, you can understand that this clue basically… well. I wouldn’t want to make things weird by saying something untoward.”

“Why stop now?” Hiyoko asked, rolling her honey-gold eyes. She squeaked, as Rantaro bapped her lightly on the head. “Oh, come on! You know I’m right!”

“I’ve got nothing, either,” Rantaro shrugged. “I swear, I haven’t tried to make anyone kill somebody lately.”

Peko stroked her chin. “That’s not entirely true. You have an amazing talent for making others think it would be a good idea to attack you. Perhaps you’re doing it on purpose. Out of some odd sense of thrill-seeking?”

“Ultimate Adrenaline Junkie, hmm.” Mahiru shook her head. “It makes me sad to admit it. Because that’s not the kind of guy I’d normally spend any time with or want as a model. But it would fit.”

“Guys, cut it out! This is serious!” Hiro said. “Somebody needs to like, do something!”

“About what?” Teruteru asked, combing his hair and sweating buckets. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Just for the record, I don’t know what that message is talking about, either.” Hajime shook his head. “I mean, we can assume ‘both killing games’ relates to the memories we dredged up last time, and the abortive attempt that Monokuma made on the first day to make us kill each other. But even that’s not clear.”

“It seems clear enough that we can’t just ignore it,” Junko said. “You three, and Maki Roll too, have just been telling us you ‘don’t remember anything’ from the start. But do we have any reason to, like, believe that?”

Makoto broke the silence. “Junko, come on. Am I gonna be the one to point out that each and every one of us has had our memory messed with?”

A lot of the Ultimates around him genuinely looked like they hadn’t considered that.

A wide-ranging paranoia about everyone, about all of one’s fellow neighbors, wasn’t ideal. But it was better than focusing a narrow beam of intense suspicion on a few people. Which was the sort of condition that could lead to bad things, fast. Especially given the options available to the new government to deal with anybody it felt was ‘bad’.

Once the paranoia started in earnest, they were sunk.

Not that Shuichi could do much about it. He couldn’t even save his close friends. In fact, none of them would even so much as glance his way. Angie, of course, wouldn’t spare one glance backwards, but her followers didn’t, either. Not even Kiibo or Gonta.

Junko wouldn’t give up. “Big Mac, I know you’re super duper crushing on Kyouko-”

“W-What does that have to- I mean, that’s not even… Junko, come on!”

“- but that’s not the issue here. It’s fine for you to trust so easily, that’s just your own life you’re risking. But this is big shit. I mean, this kind of clue-”

“Could be worthless,” Kaede interrupted Junko now, just as she’d done to the Ultimate Pianist before. “Or even a trick. No, Makoto and Hajime are right. We don’t know what this really means.”

Junko fixed Kaede with a glare that could have melted steel beams.

They both killed their mics.

The two had quite an animated conversation. Shuichi was glad he was too far back to hear. Everyone watched, though.

Like they were observing their own parents having a fight.

“T-That is not the only issue to come before our dark throne,” Gundham announced, taking the lead. “An even greater challenge has emerged. One that could threaten your very lives! Listen well.”

“Gundham, I don’t-” Kaede tried to stop him, but he just kept going.

“Yesterday, among the Ultimate Labs you all clambered and scrambled for on Fifth Island like hungry beasts, was a special place! A depot of true fear, of true hell! **Mukuro Ikusaba’s Ultimate Lab!** Completely armed as any military force of your mortal world would be. With all the implements to tastelessly imitate my dark arts of destruction!” The Four Dark Devas of Destruction rolled out from his scarf as he gestured madly, cackling. The hamsters landed and rolled on the table, complaining with chitters. “Yes indeed! You wondered where the power came for Junko’s foolish order? Wonder no more!”

Nagito stared on in disbelief. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. We’re moving way too fast all of a sudden. So are you telling me, Mukuro’s lab really is, like… a military base? Like, full of guns?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Hajime agreed. “I mean, there’s no way, right?”

“Guns are just the start of it,” Junko said, pulling away from her argument with Kaede. “There is some heavy shit in there. Like a helicopter, and a tank. Oh, yeah. We’ve got the photos here too, in case you think I’m makin’ this up. It’s for mega reals.”

The proof was right on front of them.

The reminder that anyone could be a hidden enemy paired poorly with the knowledge that there were suddenly guns lying around. Actually, it synergized well, to induce maximum primal fear.

To snuff out reason.

Even Shuichi, who knew all of this going in, wasn’t immune to the souring mood of the crowd.

“Why the fuck would that rabbit decide it was a good idea to dump a full military base on you?” Even Fuyuhiko, the Ultimate Yakuza, was taken aback by the news, but at least he could form sentences. That was better than some of the less resilient Ultimates were doing. In fact, he looked more aggravated than shocked or afraid. Of course; to somebody like him, even military-grade weapons were probably a normal sight. “She might as well be giving matches to a kid in a goddamn wooden house.”

“Hey, like I said, Mookie is a pro,” Junko said. “If it wasn’t for the break-in, we’d have things totally, like, under control.”

Hina raised her hand again. “Um... The ‘break-in’?”

“... Oopsie~ Well, since I accidentally told them, Mookie, you should make it official.”

Mukuro obeyed. “My Lab was indeed among the ten new ones opened up. It does in fact feature military-grade weaponry. Some of which was stolen by a robber yesterday, who broke in before we could respond.”

The silence was again deafening, this time for just a moment.

“You’ve got to work on your delivery, babe,” Junko told her, facepalming.

Nobody knew what to say.

Everyone made a lot of noise once they got over the shock, though.

‘Mass panic’ was really the only term to describe what followed. Nekomaru even had to step in when it looked like an actual small-scale riot might break out among the Ultimates. Sternly restoring some form of order as lightning crackled behind his eyes.

At least Kaede could be heard.

“Everyone, please calm down! Just listen to what we have to say. We responded to the situation as quickly as we could. As soon as we learned that Mukuro had a lab, and it had been broken into, we started sealing off the hole, and put guards from Security on watch. Those guards will remain cycling through the base on three-person shifts every few hours, even though the defenses have been repaired. As of now, by a unanimous vote of the Council, going into the base is forbidden for everyone except Mukuro herself and the three guards.”

“At least you are doing something,” Byakuya sighed. “Although as I’m sure even you’re aware, Kaede, it’s too little, too late. Especially given this farce of a ‘Council’s failures already.”

“Failures?!” Kaede was taken aback. “I mean, look, this isn’t a great situation at all. But how could you expect us to stop something when we didn’t know it happened? We only found out about it after the break-in was over.”

“Well, that’s not entirely accurate,” Nagito said. “Or rather, once we went over to the island, you might not have had any hope of stopping it. But, forgive me for pointing this out, there was a way to prevent this crisis in the first place.” Everyone looked to him, and he raised his hands plaintively. “Although, I wouldn’t want to be rude enough to point it out, since I’m really not trying to say anything negative here. Come on, guys…”

“Angie doesn’t have a problem saying anything that’s true,” The little pear-shaped cult leader chimed in. Just as happy as she could be. “So! Here goes! Atua says that if you had controlled the exploration of the new islands, then there wouldn’t have been no window for the traitors to act.”

“Whose bright idea was it to avoid taking basic precautions?” Twogami demanded, his voice only slightly muffled by all that cooked meat on the bone he was going after. “Come now. Who didn’t think of enforcing the use of teams?”

Thanks to Kaede, only Shuichi knew that the Council had considered doing that exact thing. It was Kaede’s proposal, but the other two rejected it because it was too strict.

Throughout the meeting, her and Junko had been jockeying for position, while Gunham sat back and watched it happen.

Shuichi didn’t like to think in cynical terms when he could avoid it. As he told Kaede, though, detectives rarely had the luxury of hope. This was a good chance to really turn things around on the others. Especially Junko. She’d argued the most strongly for ‘freedom’ at any cost. She opposed and gridlocked Kaede in votes. She gave her attitude at every stage.

Kaede hadn’t handled things well, either. But at least she was willing to come back and admit she was wrong. Like with Angie, Junko just wasn’t built that way. They were indomitable.

They would never _stop_. They could only _be stopped_.

If there was a moment to whip the people up, when their fear was strongest, it was this. When all the news piled up on top of the Ultimates like stones threatening to crush them.

Instead, after a quick glance to either side, Kaede lied right to all the people who’d elected her just two days ago. Just as Shuichi had lied to the girl sitting at that other table, biting her thumb anxiously, three days past.

“It was a unanimous vote. So if you want to blame anybody, then you’d have to blame all of us, because we all agreed to let people explore at their own pace.” Kaede squared her shoulders, leaning forward against the mic. Her purple eyes blazed a challenge to the crowd. “We are all just doing our best here, okay?”

“‘Sat supposed to make us feel better, or some shit?!” Mondo demanded. “Give me a break, sister! You let some psychopath load up on guns, and we’re supposed to just say ‘oops, do-over’?”

“You’re telling me that at any time, like, one of us could just…” Hiro turned a far more pale shade than his usual deeply tanned, brown skin tone. “Like, whip out a gun, and go to town? Why are we even having a big meeting like this?! We’re all lined up like a shooting gallery!”

Celeste sighed. “Has the memory of that pat-down before breakfast truly left your skull, Hiro? Everyone here has been frisked for weapons. Even though some of us, like myself, strongly protested.”

“I sure won’t be forgetting that any time soon,” Teruteru murmured. Eyes oddly intense, as a tiny trail of blood dripped down from his beady nose.

“I... WASN’T ASKING YOU **ANYTHING** , PIG!”

“Aiyeee! P-Please yell at me more, Mistress!”

“Kukuku,” Kiyo chuckled to himself. “We started so promisingly, but now it’s all coming undone at the seams. Now, Shuichi, comes the real rest of whether this beautiful micro-nation can long endure. It’s easy to be a leader in paradise. When dangers come from within and without? Not so easy.”

It wasn’t quite as cut-and-dry as ‘the less intelligent somebody was, the more angry they got’, much as Shuichi might have thought so. For instance, Kokichi was happily fanning the flames of outrage. Despite knowing better.

Things only grew more loud and heated, until Shuichi was again convinced violence was about to break out.

Until a single high, female voice sounded out, right over all the noise and chaos.

_**“Cease this bickering!”** _

There stood Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess. She put herself between the Council and the other Ultimates, facing out towards everyone, arms crossed. Regal and majestic, her light blue eyes firm and clearly expectant. Her very attitude expected, and required, obedience.

It shouldn’t have worked.

Coming from anyone else on this island, it wouldn’t have worked.

Yet, for her, there was silence.

She looked around, and spoke more in sorrow than in anger. “Fighting amongst ourselves at a time like this is unforgivable. If there are, indeed, traitors among us, as this incident seems to prove, then the last thing they want to see is our unity.”

“You’re right, Miss Sonia,” Kazuichi said. “B-But what do we do now?”

Sonia looked at him sternly. “Our best.”

“O-Our best?’

“She’s saying that she isn’t sure yet,” Sayaka explained, clasping her hands together piously as she stood up. “However, perhaps the Council has a plan for how to deal with this? I still trust them. After all, they make decisions based on what they know right now. Before it actually happened, who could have even imagined this outcome?”

Sayaka rarely spoke up during these big group meetings, in spite of her incredible celebrity. Or perhaps because of it. Shuichi just thought of her as a person, but that led him to sometimes overlook how well-regarded she was.

Even among this group, her melodious voice carried an incredible weight.

Combined, the two well-spoken ladies had stopped a panicked stampede of voices and bodies in their tracks. They got everyone to sit down and listen.

“We’re not going to take any of this lying down,” Junko confirmed. “First, Mookie. You got your inventory ready?”

Mukuro nodded. “All told, the theft was a minor one. I’m convinced that no more than **two 9mm handguns** were stolen. Along with no more than ten magazines of suitable **9x19mm parabellum**.”

“Well, there’s two traitors, so that makes sense,” Nagito nodded. “I guess we should be thankful they didn’t think to grab something with a little more, uh, kick. Those are just pistols.”

“What, no machine guns, or bombs or anything?” Leon shook his head. “Are we actually dealing with morons here?”

“I dunno,” Kokochi said, arms lifted behind his head casually as he leaned back in his chair, setting boots up on the table. “If I were an evil traitor out to kill you all, and I’m not, I might pick something with a high concealment rating. Especially if I knew Kaede was going to be going turbo-fascist.”

“Maybe they’re going for a stealth and crit build,” Chiaki suggested.

Mukuro nodded. “That’s my conclusion, as well. Anything larger than a handgun is hard to conceal. It’s better to have a useful weapon to hand than a powerful, but impractical type. It’s clear the traitors have been playing the long game with us.”

“Plus, that’s still way more than enough gun to just kill a person,” Miu said, shivering. “If you got shot with something so hard, so fast, y-you wouldn’t be able to endure it…”

Kazuichi scoffed. “What a vulgar girl. Why can’t you be more like Miss Sonia, and have some dignity and class?!”

“So, our plan for dealing with this shit. Obviously, every single building will be searched,” Junko explained. “Security, you guys are gonna basically be working around the clock until we get this shit sorted. Sorry~”

She never looked sorry, so it was hard to take apologies seriously.

“We’ve also voted to reinstate the night patrols at each hotel,” Kaede said. “Given the current situation, we don’t have any other choice.”

Shuichi did the mental math, weary as he was. Three more people needed on assignment during the night. Meaning six members of Security would be standing guard at any one time. And that was only the night. The base had to be guarded 24/7. Not to mention having to form search parties for every single structure on the island.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Shuichi said. “We don’t have enough people, or hours in the day.”

“Leave it to my sidekick to think of all the angles,” Kaito beamed. “Fortunately, I’ve come up with one hell of a plan for that. The night watch will be drafted from each class randomly.”

That wasn’t exactly a popular move, especially among the less socially conscious.

Given the severity of the situation, though, nobody wanted to be the one who stuck out like a sore thumb. Not even the problem elements.

Everyone was, at least on the basic level, on the same side.

Which just left one more loose end.

“The girl with the heart of a razor has sealed herself up,” Gundham announced in grave tones. “Word has spread far and wide. That Maki girl has barricaded herself within her Ultimate Lab. I have no way to know what goes on within the mind of such a troublesome human. She has cut herself off from the life force of this island.”

“I don’t know about that last part,” Kaede said nervously. “Maki’s the only one missing because she won’t come out for anything. Kiibo was injured yesterday trying to get her to open up.”

Kiibo shrugged his armor-plated shoulders. “Injury is a little strong. For a mere ordinary human, it would have been a serious issue. I am made of sterner stuff.”

“And he’s protected by Atua’s grace, clearly,” Chihiro added, admiration of this robotic being clear in her voice.

“W-Well, that’s…”

 _“Apparently that ‘grace’ only worked to a certain point,”_ Touko murmured. _“Y-Your fingers broke easier than a young maiden’s heart, u-useless robot...”_

Looking from Touko on one side of the room, to Angie and her cult on the other, only reminded Shuichi of the weight bearing down on his slim shoulders even now. Responsibilities, obligations, potential dangers, past regrets. All the things he was trying to put away.

“We don’t know what talent Maki has, and it’s extremely likely she’s concealing it from the group,” Kaede continued. “Or even that she has other motives-”

“That ain’t possible,” Kaito cut in. “Look. The Council couldn’t agree about using force to get in. If she’s innocent, which she is, it would be unjustified. If she’s not, provoking a violent incident could go south. So instead, I’m gonna try a few more subtle things.”

Shuichi adored Kaito’s manly, forceful personality, but he just wasn’t sure about Kaito’s ability to be, uh, ‘subtle’.

“If all else fails, she’s gonna have to come out to eat and drink,” Kaede said. “Even so, we strongly advise everyone not to go near her Lab or bother her unless it’s necessary. The fact is, this situation is just another unknown.”

“What is certain,” Kaito said, forcefully, “Is what we should be doing. Fighting together, and working together. Not suspecting anyone, or giving up to paranoia. So, to review, because this has been one fuck of a meeting: Two new islands are open to us, just like last time. Fifth Island has Ultimate Labs belonging to **Mondo, Maki, Peko, Ryoma, Mukuro, Shuichi, Kyouko, Sakura, Taka, and Kiyo.** Ten, even though Usami told us to expect eleven. Fourth Island also has some good stuff waiting for us. **The Hospital, Music Venue, Electric Avenue, Movie Theater, Bathhouse, and the Brig.**

From all that, the territory we have available has expanded a lot. But things have also become more dangerous. So, effective immediately, I’m instituting the **buddy system**. That’s right. Keep at least one other person with you as much as possible. Consider this a standing order from your Captain. Anyone found outside, alone, without official business, is going to cool their heels in the Brig for a while.”

Like the draft, there would have normally been opposition to this kind of intrusive measure. However, nobody could speak up in the current state of emergency.

As an Ultimate Detective, Shuichi was all too painfully aware of how hard it was to actually stop crime or terrorism. In fact, it was nearly impossible. Not while any semblance of normal life was running.

Everyone clung to the safety they could find in these new policies. In the very idea that their government was doing something, anything. In fact, that was the primary reason they made such a big deal out if it. Maybe they would find the weapons, or the traitors. Maybe not. Either way, they wouldn’t let the Ultimates go to pieces.

Despite their initial anger, most of the group would rally around the Council. Especially the forceful personality taking the lead, and the one who might become unstoppable in that regard, Junko Enoshima.

Especially not when Junko closed out the meeting with a stern warning. “At least one of the traitors is here among us, in this very room.” In contrast to Kaito’s attempts to calm the paranoia, that only made people look around, casting glances every which way across the tables.

On cue, Mukuro placed her own loaded gun on the table.

“Mookie’s got a message for you.”

Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, said, without a trace of the fire and bombast in her sister’s voice, “If you go after any of my friends, I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Nobody could say anything to that.

The meeting was over.

Afterwards, Kaito tried to give Shuichi the day off, but he politely declined.

If Mahiru and Nekomaru were needed for search operations, then clearly, so was an Ultimate Detective.

Kaito backed off instead of pressing the issue.

It was good to do some work, instead of just sitting around.

Mahiru made sure her male teammates worked, that was for sure. By the time the evening rolled around, and the sky was a living watercolor of oranges and yellows, his limbs felt like lead weights. The three of them went over Fifth Island with a fine-toothed comb. All nine available Ultimate labs, including Mukuro’s own. Just in case. Three times. Going around the road clockwise, counterclockwise, then clockwise again.

Nothing, anywhere.

Finally, mercifully, their group was stopped on the road by Hiyoko and Rantaro.

“Mahiru! C’mon! Let’s play, or something!~”

“I think you guys have all done more than done enough work for today,” Rantaro said.

“Well, we still have a few more things we haven’t tried…” Mahiru held her arms together, looking to the side. Weary, but uncompromising. “I hate to leave a job half finished.” Three times over wasn’t good enough for her?

Shuichi and Nekomaru shared a look.

“Go on, Mahiru,” Shuichi offered with a smile.

“Really?” Mahiru would have normally offered up a more spirited defense. Her freckled face drooped with exhaustion. “Well, I mean…”

“We’ll finish up the rest of the Labs again, then take off,” Nekomaru assured her, with his usual broad grin. “Aren’t you always talking about how its the men's job to look after you ladies?”

“Alright, if it’s okay. You guys had better do a thorough job, though. Just because I’m gone doesn’t mean you can slack off, this is important.” She admonished them, wagging her finger. “... Thanks. Seriously, don’t push yourselves too much.”

“No worries,” Shuichi sighed. “We won’t last long, either.”

“Yaay! Mahiru can get away from those dumb, smelly boys!” Hiyoko grabbed Mahiru’s hand, and pulled her off with her usual pushy attitude. “Smell ya later, Pooichi!”

Oh good, it was catching on.

_Thanks, Miu._

Rantaro lingered a moment more. “Mahiru doesn’t know her own limits. I’d say that’s a bad thing, but that would be pretty hypocritical, huh? Stay safe, guys. Oh, and Shuichi? Don’t let this shit get you down, man.”

Shuichi nodded. ‘Yeah. Thanks.”

This wasn’t the first time somebody broached that topic out of the blue today. Clearly, the island at large had heard of his breakup with the Black Hats.

As soon as they were alone, Nekomaru said, “Let’s just check Sakura’s Lab coming up here, and... call it a day. P-Plus, that’s pretty convenient, isn’t it?”

“Convenient for what?” Shuichi asked.

“... Uh, for nothing in particular! Ahahaha!”

Nekomaru, unlike Shuichi, was a horrendous liar.

It was pretty endearing.

No matter how often Shuichi looked upon the cherry blossoms, bearing continual fruit and shedding waves of pink upon the land, he’d never get used to their entrancing beauty.

Sakura said this was nothing compared to the real thing. Her family’s dojo, that her Ultimate Lab was lovingly crafted as an homage to. Shuichi told her he’d like to visit someday, once this was all over.

If it ever ended.

Nekomaru led Shuichi into a back-room of the dojo. The wooden-paneled room was lit by a paper lantern hanging from the wall. It cast things into deep shadow, flickering warmly. Kneeling at a short table on the mat-covered floor, were two women. They couldn’t contrast each other much more, yet they were from the same field. Fighting. Martial arts, particularly.

On one side, there was Sakura, politely nodding at his approach as she cupped a green cup of tea.

And there, looking up at Shuichi’s arrival with an inscrutable, solemn expression, was Tenko.

“Hello, Shuichi.”

Clearly, this day, and its worries, were far from over.


	28. 2-6. Free Time Events IV (Multiple)

Idols had to be pure.

Makoto considered that an unbending law of nature once.

Then he reconnected with Sayaka. The ideal of the idol was shattered. Like a lot of things he'd believed in all his life.

That old life was gone, now. Destroyed in fire and fury.

He firmly believed that one day they would go back. But that wouldn't be for a very long time.

Everyone had to figure out what was important to them in the meantime, among the beautiful ruins. Makoto himself would never give up. He always encouraged the others to keep going in his own small ways. He found purpose in helping and getting to know the others as much as he could.

He wasn't a charming, forceful leader. Or some great, genius detective. Or an explorer who always pushed ahead fearlessly. He was just some guy. But he didn't let that stop him. As they saw him push on, the Ultimates took heart. If Makoto could make it in this new world, then literally what was keeping any of them back?

It wasn't foolproof, and it didn't help everyone. Peace with their new lives had to come from within. Some drove themselves to keep active, or socialize. While others withdrew.

Sayaka did both.

In public, she remained Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol. In private, with Makoto and Kyouko, she was Sayaka. It was like she was sneaking off to meet with her boyfriend, in spite of the world itself, every day.

She had been plucked from constant stress, and placed in a land of ease, plenty, and beauty. She had no escape back to the life she'd worked so hard, and done so many bad things, to earn. If there had been a way, she would have grasped it. Firmly, and without hesitation.

That was just in her nature. She was driven like few others.

Or maybe she was just afraid of a life without structure. Her manager controlled what she ate, how long she slept, and her daily schedule to the minute most days. The friends she was allowed to make were members of her group.

Her strongest rivals were also her closest friends.

She had been locked in a constant struggle for survival, for dominance. To keep her spot within the group. To keep her group’s place on the charts.

A war without end left its scars.

What happened afterwards seemed inevitable. But at least things ended without anyone getting hurt, and they could move past it. Makoto knew she would recover. He never had any doubt that she could even be strong enough to forgive herself, eventually.

That was really the only obstacle they had to clear. Their situation, feelings for each other, memories of the past? It all made for fertile soil to grow a close relationship quickly.

After the Ultimate Festival, that closeness wasn't just emotional.

She kept it to teasing and playing around in public, but it was constant. She touched him whenever possible. Holding hands, patting him on the shoulder, leaning in close. Even innocent contact could train him, over time, to need her touch, just as she needed him. His earnest affection and support, unclouded by guile and lies. He was trained to accept intimacy by degrees.

Not that an eager young lad, absolutely head-over-heels with his childhood friend, needed much of a push.

Sayaka was starving for touch. When they were alone, she had her fill.

What an incredible situation. For once, Makoto could believe in his silly talent. Truly, what were the odds that they'd ever be together again, much less... together?

Makoto didn't just have hope because of his relentless optimism. He had well-founded reasons to believe the world wasn't always so dark and scary.

Sometimes, things turned out just right.

Being claimed like a precious resource might have bothered some guys. Makoto didn't mind letting her take the lead. Sayaka had little practical experience, but her eagerness made up for it. She was the aggressor. She was taller, stronger, forceful, intense.

She was also careful not to go too far all at once. She backed off immediately at one stuttered word from him. Which he’d had to give a few times. She moved fast, a lifetime of being deprived leading to a constant thirst. Or maybe hunger was the better metaphor. She did enjoy the occasional bite.

Yet when he wanted things to stop, they stopped.

Until he couldn’t take it any longer, and needed more. Which didn’t take long at all.

She knew when to press and when to pull back. When to tease him until he couldn't take it, and when to be forcefully direct. She also wisely got them some condoms. They’d always been available from the Supermarket, but few had taken notice of that.

During their lovemaking, Sayaka made a sport out of marking his body anywhere that wouldn't show past his clothing.

Inspired by her forceful habit, Makoto left marks of his own. Including, as he awoke the next day beside her in bed to discover in a panic, a hickey right on her neck. Right where one left hickies, if they wanted to be brazen. The slight discoloration and bruising on her flawless, meticulously-maintained, soft creamy skin was sacrilegious. Like he'd defiled something beautiful.

It was nothing compared to the other things they'd done last night, but for Makoto Naegi's very limited definition of a badass, he sure felt like one.

_Screw you, world. Sayaka Maizono is my girlfriend. I can literally do anything._

Except, apparently, keep a schedule.

There was a knock at the door to his cabin. "Um, that's probably Kyouko."

"Well, we'd better not keep her waiting, hm? It could be important." Even covered in blue sheets, the sight of Sayaka, nude, covered in marks he’d so thoughtlessly left was a powerful image. Makoto couldn’t help but let his eyes trail over her bountiful curves and toned arms and legs again, and again.

"But, your neck?"

"Let her see.” Sayaka giggled, swimming through the ocean of sheets towards her discarded pile of clothes. “In fact, it might prove useful if she sees."

“Uh, how?” Makoto was a touch slow on the average day, much less after all that. It was a miracle he remembered to breathe this morning. “Won’t she just be mad?”

“C’mon, let’s get dressed and I’ll show you.” Bending over, Sayaka slid her cute pink panties back up her long, thick legs, until they were back in place, offering her a smidgen of modesty.

Watching Sayaka get dressed, because she’d pulled off all those clothes with him last night, was a spectacular show. Makoto would have happily just stared at Sayaka, in any state of dress or undress, all day. It wasn’t conducive to getting anything done, though.

Sayaka had the art of dressing in a hurry down to a science. Makoto took much longer before he was something approaching decent.

If Kyouko had any reaction to seeing both of them answer the door, looking disheveled, she didn’t show it. Makoto still couldn’t help feeling sheepish. Sayaka gave a wide, too-friendly smile. “Good morning, Kyouko.”

Makoto watched those cool purple eyes flash around the room, darting from clue to clue, until they ended up on Sayaka’s neck. “Good morning. You guys are falling into a pattern. I got it right the first time today.”

“Or maybe you’re just using those newly unlocked mind powers, Miss Ultimate Detective~” Sayaka giggled. “Come in, come in.”

Makoto pulled up a chair from his desk. Kyouko sat, tense and upright. Sayaka was happy to sit on Makoto’s very messy sheets and blankets, reclining without a care in the world. If Makoto belonged to her now, it only followed that his room was hers too.

Fortunately, the sheets were light-colored and more just tossed around than, uh, that kind of messy. Not that Kyouko needed to be the Ultimate Detective to figure this puzzle out.

Makoto chose to stand from guilt. “S-So, how about all that stuff yesterday. Pretty crazy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Kyouko replied, tone flat and even. Devoid of emotion. “The enemy made a move right under our nose. Now, they may be poised to strike.”

“Any idea who did it, Kyouko?” Sayaka asked, as if they were discussing the weather. “I know you’ve been carrying out your own investigation, with Shuichi’s new toys.”

“I have some suspects,” Kyouko said.

“Would you like to share with the class?” Sayaka prompted playfully.

“Not really. Especially now that I’m an Ultimate Detective, I have to be careful with my words.” Was Kyouko ever anything but careful in the first place? “If I tell you my theories, it will guide, shape, and restrict your thoughts. It would be no different than just having one person on the case. I’d rather have all three.”

“Makes sense,” Makoto shrugged. “Um, you both know who I think totally did it.”

“It’s possible,” Kyouko admitted. “I can’t account for his activities between the opening of the new island, and our discovery of the break-in. Whether or not it was him, the chances it was one of the traitors are very good.” But not a guarantee? Who else would pull that kind of stunt? “I think we should implement a new plan for investigating Nagito. My surveillance efforts, both in person and with cameras, has failed to turn up anything at all. Besides the fact that he’s very good at kissing.”

He couldn’t possibly be as good as Sayaka was- “It makes me sick to think Hajime doesn’t even know. I mean, he’s in serious danger. We’ve gotta tell him.”

“That’s one option,” Kyouko said. “However, I have a different idea. I’m going to try it today.”

Makoto was the one to bite this time. “Well, what is it?”

“Just trust me.”

_Sheesh._

“We both trust you, Kyouko,” Sayaka assured her. “Completely. That’s why we brought you in on this in the first place. I hope you’ll trust us too.”

“I’m not sure I can trust somebody who talks out of both sides of their mouth,” Kyouko replied, staring a hole through Makoto.

_Here we go._

“Kyouko, I want to explain.”

“Don’t bother. You’ve made things very clear.” Kyouko turned to Sayaka. “Is there any more business to discuss?”

“Just one thing.” Sayaka sighed. “Shuichi approached me yesterday to ask for help. You’ve probably noticed how things are going with the Black Hats right now. To make a long story short, he wants my help to figure out what’s going on. He wants me to become one of Angie’s followers.”

“N-No way! That’s...”

“The thing about religion, Makoto, is that there’s no such thing as a ‘faith test’. It’s just what a person believes in their heart, and says with their mouth, and does through their actions. One of those doesn’t need to relate to any of the others, as I’ve learned quite well.” She grinned.

“In other words, you’re going to infiltrate Angie’s organization,” Kyouko said. “Such as it is.”

“That’s the plan, anyhow.” Sayaka shrugged. “I’m not gonna say there’s no danger. First off, if Atua really does exist, he’ll be able to tell I’m faking. Guys just hate that. I’ll be in hot water then. Maybe literally, I don’t know Angie’s rituals.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Makoto shook his head.

“What?~ Me getting boiled in a cauldron, Atua being real, or that I might have been faking it?”

“Sayaka, Angie is nuts,” Makoto glared. “Like, dangerous. Like that guy. Maybe worse!”

“All the more reason that a person on the inside would be valuable,” Kyouko said. “If you think that you can pull it off, Sayaka, then go for it. What’s your contingency plan?”

“That’s simple. If I think they’re on to me, I’ll run really fast and get Makoto to save me!”

Kyouko spared a glance over at him. “What’s the actual plan?”

_Ouch._

“I’ll trade Hope Pads with Shuichi, who has a messenger. If I really need to go loud and ask for help, I’ll just message Kaede or Junko. This mission was approved by the Council, you know.”

“Make it Kaede,” Kyouko advised. “Otherwise, that sounds okay. In fact, given that you’re such an expertly talented liar, and you have skill in manipulating people, you should be perfect for this.”

“Why, thank you, Kyouko! I’m sure your mission will also meet with total success. If he’s going up against an Ultimate Detective, Nagito won’t be able to get away!”

Lightning crackled through the air.

“Should I give you two some time alone?” Sayaka wondered innocently.

“No,” Kyouko shook her head. “This won’t take long. And this involves you just as much. I don’t think it’s wrong for the two of you to become close like this. What I think is wrong is telling me what you did, Makoto. Making a girl think something, and then doing this like nothing’s wrong? I didn’t expect that from somebody like you.”

“Kyouko, I mean… I…”

Sayaka sighed. “He meant it, Kyouko. He meant what he said. He doesn’t just like me. He likes you. The same way.”

“S-Sayaka!”

“Just trying to cut out the bullshit and get to the point, Makoto. Sorry~”

Nope. Sayaka cursing, even in private, would never get less weird.

“That’s stupid,” Kyouko glared. “It’s unrealistic. It’s totally unreasonable. Some would call it greedy, others immoral. Few would even consider it was possible, because it’s not normal.”

“Nothing about our situation so far has been normal,” Sayaka shrugged. “It’s how he genuinely feels though. Makoto is, despite my best efforts… an irrepressible optimist. It might be bothersome, but it’s also super cute, don’t you think? And it’s also infectious.”

“Kyouko, in all seriousness,” Makoto said. “I feel something s-special about both of you. If you asked me to pick, I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t!”

“It looks like you’ve chosen already. A fine choice, too. Nobody could fault you for that.”

“That’s wrong, though! Kyouko, I… just think about it, alright?”

“We don’t need an answer right away,” Sayaka said. “So take your time. Just know that I won’t, Kyouko.”

“What?”

“If it seems like we’re moving fast, it’s because it’s been so damn long. Since middle school, he’s been on my mind. That wasn’t a lie. Not to mention, my life… it just hasn’t been possible. Now, it is. Not only that, but the way things keep changing, who knows how long we’ll actually have before something happens? Given all that, do you think I could _ever_ stop? Or wait around?”

That sounded more like a challenge than anything.

Makoto didn’t know what to say. It was stupid, Kyouko was right. He was being really dumb and stupid and he could end up hurting both of them from not being able to just pick, like a normal person would.

But it was all true. He _couldn’t_ just ‘choose one’. That wasn’t how he was.

He finally found something that made him stick out from the crowd, but it just had to be this.

“No, I don’t think you could. I’ve got a lot to think about,” Kyouko said. “As I’ve told you before, I don’t believe, or disbelieve, right away.”

Sayaka frowned. “When we got into it during those games, you gave as good as you got. I can tell. You’re receptive to touch. You have a wonderful sensitivity. You didn’t mind it, no matter how close or ‘friendly’ I got. Even though we’re both girls. Even though you seem so annoyed with me.”

“That was then, and I was drunk. This is now, and we’re not just talking about some… kissing, or any of that. Relationships should be important.” Kyouko shook her head. “Take care.”

Off she went.

Makoto flopped over onto the bed, trying to bury himself in blankets and pillows, face still on fire, legs kicking and flailing. “I’m such an idiot. Damnit!”

“Patience, Makoto.” Sayaka wiggled over until she’d pinned him in a cocoon of blankets, stopping his struggles and resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve got a good feeling about this. All of it, but especially Kyouko. She’ll come around and at least give us a chance to prove ourselves.”

“H-How can you know that for sure? I can’t believe any girl would, like, be cool with that sort of thing. It’s so weird! And I’m the one who suggested it!”

“Not every guy, or girl, or person, is the same, silly. Some of us would be… really into that kind of thing. Or all sorts of things. Also, I’m sure because I’m psychic. Duh.”

“Oh, right.”

“Have a little faith. So to speak~”

 

* * *

 

Without an Ultimate Lab to her name yet, Miu literally set up shop. She claimed one of the many abandoned storefronts in Electric Avenue for her own purposes.

Purposes mainly including Makoto moving junk out to the street to make room.

"C'mon! Get your back into it, slave! If you work hard for me, we can both put our backs into it later! If you can even handle me, fuckin' virgin."

Technically, that insult was no longer accurate.

Not that making fun of people for whether or not they’d had sex made any sense to begin with!

Makoto wondered if Byakuya and Hiyoko were free later. You know, just to round out a day of maximum effort for minimum dignity and respect.

Kiibo was present, but also missing some of his hands. Both Makoto and Miu naturally fretted over their fellow ahoge wielder. Kiibo assured them it actually wasn't too painful. Somehow. Makoto would be incoherent with agony if he got his fingers chopped off.

That just proved how amazing the Ultimate Robot really was.

It also proved why he couldn't help out, despite being on the Trash Detail. Leaving Makoto to toil under Miu's regime, and further proving Junko right.

"I fuckin' love you two. You're so damn easy on an island of sassy bitches! You're obedient and you both know your place. Unlike a lot of ungrateful swine who don't understand my true vision. Makoto, you got such a goodie two-shoes sense of 'helping people' that you're a walkin' doormat! And you, Kiibo! You're a little clearer-headed, but still infected with that 'optimism' thing. Seriously, you both need to get over that sick belief in other people."

"I'm not going to do ever do that," Kiibo rolled his eyes. "Regardless of whether others mistreat me, or what trials we might face. While a positive attitude may not always bear fruit, a negative attitude can have no benefit whatsoever. Despair is the least logical of conclusions."

"Right on," Makoto groaned beneath a box of Miu's huge, thick, densely-packed metal nuts. "I feel the same way! I mean, there weren't a whole lot of volunteers ready to handle all the trash. We're lucky Kiibo and the others are willing to do that stuff. They did that to help others."

"Tch. That reminds me. I bet being that slutty maid's 'special team' probably means you're kinkier than expected!~ A real pervert, like all the others, ahahaha!"

"Erm. Shall we begin the repairs, Miu?" Kiibo suggested. "I am still in some degree of pain. Mainly because disabling pain completely is not something the average human is capable of doing. So although I could, it would be against my nature as one who seeks understanding of the human condition."

"Oh, right! Just lie back on here, Kiibs. Where you're nice and vulnerable." Miu glanced over at Makoto. "Grab me those toolkits back there. It's not perfect, but a true master can make any device sing and moan."

Kiibo laid back on a flat surface as requested. A set of boxes of the same size stacked together. Makoto expected the cardboard boxes to crumple beneath the weight of a robot, but was surprised to learn Kiibo was a normal human weight. The robot was about waist-level with Miu. Although he insisted he didn't need a pillow to prop up his head, he didn't complain when Miu slid one in anyway.

Well, mainly because she hit something on the back of Kiibo's neck, beneath his robotic 'collar'.

Kiibo passed out instantly.

"Miu?!" Makoto demanded. "What the heck are you doing?"

"If a patient is too retarded to accept anesthetic before surgery, Makoto, you should jam it right the fuck in anyhow!" Miu shook her head. "We're going to be building new hands for this metal moron. That doesn't just mean fingers, it means what passes for nerve tissue for robots. If he thought he knew pain before, it wouldn't be anything compared to what's to come!"

"Wow." Makoto couldn't help a smile. "I guess all that stuff about 'not caring about others' doesn't always apply, huh?"

"I-I-It would just be annoying as balls if he was flipping out and flailing! I don't got any restraints here." Which was probably for the best in every way. "So the **Good Night Button** was the better choice all around!"

"Good Night Button?"

Miu grabbed him by the shoulders. "Makoto, if you tell anybody that Kiibo has an on/off switch at the base of his neck, under that collar? I will castrate you."

"W-What?! Why would you do that to somebody? To me? And why is it such a big deal if Kiibo has. like, a sleep button?!"

"The traitors, dickweed! We still don't have clue one about who either of them are, right?"

Makoto looked away from Miu, unable to look her in the eyes. "R-Right."

"So! It could be anyone. So, Kiibo's weak point is a serious issue. I mean, you've seen he's not exactly any more strong or sturdy than, well, you. Which is truly a pitiful thing for a supposedly superior robotic life-form."

"Yeah, it is," Makoto sighed.

"Okay. So now, finally. Let's begin!"

Makoto didn't understand this operation. He didn't understand the woman doing it. Or the being on the table having his fingers rebuilt. Well, he knew the goal. He could even tell you the tools involved. Like a wrench, a screwdriver, and many more. Including a welding tool, which involved wearing a face-mask for the first time in his life. Countless hot sparks flew through the musky, dusty abandoned electronics store.

By the light of the welding torch, as well as that which streamed through broken sets of dirty old windows, they toiled all afternoon and into the evening. Miu did all the technical bits, while Makoto did ‘all other tasks’. Like bringing her more and more stiff, bitter coffee. Or a few beers. And so many tools. Plus, a few big sheets of metal, that had to be cut and molded into the shape of humanoid fingers.

They wouldn't look like the rest of Kiibo's expertly-crafted, factory-tooled robot body. With some spray-paint, it should be close enough.

Plus, he'd regain full functionality, most importantly.

Makoto wanted to believe that Maki had some reason for her actions. He suspected, darkly, that she didn’t. Or maybe it would be worse if she did have good reason to hide. Because of what that suggested.

The work went on and on, and Miu grew intently focused. Normally, her brilliance and attitude were like the sun, bursting out in all directions, at all times. It gave her an aimless, blinding intensity. Like a rebel without a cause, or an explosion with no purpose. However, when she had something to sink her teeth into, finally, after weeks of sitting idle, she was just... incredible.

A normal guy like Makoto, who barely deserved to be called an Ultimate, got an up-close demonstration of the real thing. An illustration of the differences between people, and how people were not in fact born equal, that Byakuya could have never topped.

Miu stopped insulting him almost completely, too. She stopped saying so very many unnecessary things. However, she didn't just give him commands.

Instead, they actually talked. Like people might talk, back and forth.

Finally, Makoto was approaching something that might be called the 'real Miu'. It wasn't like her outward persona was a total lie, or she was like Sayaka and hiding a complete other self. She was still a vulgar, rude, crude lady. She didn't feel obliged to destroy his sense of self-worth every two seconds.

She, like any person who wasn’t Tsumugi, was complicated.

"I'd love to meet Professor Idabashi one of these days," Miu sighed beneath her goggles. In the light from various tools, and the sunlight glinting off them, her eyes weren't visible. "Guess that's a pretty long shot, huh? What with the world ending."

Makoto shook his head. "That's a little drastic," He objected, voice muffled by his own full-face shield. It was a lot more bulky and less wieldy than those cool science goggles. "Sure, we're not in a great spot. But there's still plenty of reasons to keep hope alive. The Professor wasn't an Ultimate, or involved at Hope's Peak. So the Hunt should have nothing to do with him."

"That's assuming Nagito's theory about an uprising of ‘normal people’ against their betters isn't right," Miu grumbled. "Talentless fucksticks to tend to get pretty jealous of amazing, world-changing people like me. I don't blame them for it, it's only natural, but it does get annoying to have to deal with 'common sense' and 'the law' and 'the masses'. Tch."

"Komaeda did say that, huh." Makoto shook his head.

Miu went back to welding for a bit, before she asked, out of the blue, "So, you gonna tell me what's going on between you and him?"

"W-What?! What do you mean, Miu-"

"Makoto. Listen closely. I am a fucking genius. I am probably, by brainpower, the smartest person on this fuck-forsaken island. That is not a boast, that is simple genetic fact. My Golden Brain isn't even fully human anymore."

"Not fully human?"

"I'll explain later. For now, just trust me. I'm an augmented human, a superior being. And you're an astoundingly shit liar."

Makoto sighed. "I mean, there's something, but..."

"Let me guess," Miu went on. "Can't tell me, huh?"

"Miu, it's not that I don't trust you..."

"You think I can’t keep a secret. You think I'm an emotional trainwreck who'll just as soon fight as fuck, but doesn’t do either. And who can't deal with actual living humans in any other capacity."

"That’s wrong, I’d never say that kinda stuff about you!"

"But you’d be right to," Miu admitted, the voice faint over the crackling of the blowtorch flame. "That's me. Just some wannabe-whore who keeps all the pain away with a thick layer of Attitude, capital A. Even so, ain't it funny? You'll talk about hope and friendship until the Chiakis come home. But when it comes time to put your dick on the table, and measure up, and be fuckin' honest with your supposed friend about something important? Oh, suddenly it's time to keep secrets."

Makoto never expected to get a moral dressing-down from Miu. Not compared to the risk of actually being stripped against his will- "Miu, I really don't think of you like that. Entirely. I mean, like, you do have a lot of outbursts. And you say hurtful things. A lot."

"This ain't about me, don't deflect, you bitch," Miu snapped. "This is about you and your vaunted moral code, Makoto. At least I don't pretend to give a fuck about others."

"Pretend?!" Makoto flipped up his blast shield thing, and Miu stopped the welder, although she kept the goggles firmly over her eyes. "Hey, Miu, I've put up with a lot of stuff from you-"

"This is bigger than you and your worries and plans and whatever, moron!" Miu exploded, slapping Kiibo's chest like a desk. It made a hollow metal noise. "We're in a dangerous situation. More importantly, I'm at risk. And unlike you, I can admit I'm out for number one first, second, and third! And anyone else, a fuckin' distant, like, eighth." Was that really true, though? "You know somethin' I don't. Somethin' that could be real fuckin' important, the way you're acting. You're refusing to share it because it could be risky, but what about the risks of keeping quiet and being a secretive little fuck-boy? How am I supposed to prepare for an issue I don't know exists? There's genius, and then there's the realm of fucking miracles!"

It hurt, because Makoto knew that Miu had a point, and he had to concede. "You've gotta promise me. Tell nobody, and do nothing about it."

"I can't promise any damn thing until I hear what it is."

Makoto glared up at her. "Miu, you've got to promise before I'll say a word."

"God damnit. Now's the moment you grow a spine and a pair, of all times. Like I'd even keep my word to a fucking peasant like you... Fine! I won't freak out."

Makoto's heart raced. He shook his head to clear it, and then looked over at Miu's opaque goggles, where her eyes should be. "Nagito's one of the traitors."

Honestly, even given her promise, Makoto expected a big blow-up. Or a whirlwind of panic, or anxious questioning. Miu didn't even ask for his proof, or how he knew, or how sure he was. "You're literally the last person on this cursed island who would level that kinda false accusation, so I'm pretty sure that true. Or at least, you believe it with all of your misguided little heart." She sighed. "I always thought somethin' was off about that pretty-boy. Well, there it is."

Makoto told her everything.

It took a while.

"You been through the shit. More than anyone knows. If they knew, maybe they wouldn't shit on you quite so much. Tch. Well, now that we know at least one of the enemies. Our life just got a lot easier. Hell, we're gonna be bona-fide heroes. We just gotta get him, before he gets us. Hell, if we get him real good, we can make him talk. Sell out his butt-buddy, the second traitor. One way, or another. I'll work on a cross we can use to nail him up on, if needed."

"Miu!" Makoto was, naturally, horrified. "We can't do that!"

"Tch. Of course not. Well, tell me you've at least reported this to those fascists in Security."

"Um, not really. If we spread this information too much, or Security tries to move against him, then it could be really dangerous. We have no clue what kind of contingency plan or backup Nagito has. I mean, especially with what happened at Mukuro's Lab yesterday, he could be seriously packing heat!"

"What, so we twiddle our thumbs and wait for him to fuck us right in the ass?" Miu shook her head. "That's the stupidest thing you've ever managed to say, Makoto."

"Miu, you promised..."

"Damnit. I know. We've gotta keep this on the DL for now. I just... mostly, I can't believe that Kiibo works so much with that fucking son of a bitch. I mean, he thinks you're harmless, which is true, and is probably just in awe of both my brain and my tits. So that leaves Kiibo, who he's always close by. Kiibo's in the most danger of the three of us, we should just tell him... But he's not, like, ready for that kinda thing." Miu reached down, stroking Kiibo's metal face with a wistful sigh. "Shit, the revelation that every single person in the world ain't a good person is gonna be enough to fry his motherboard. Dummy."

"Kiibo's lucky," Makoto grinned. "He's got a genius looking out for him."

"Damn right! He should show his appreciation for me in all sorts of ways! Ahaha!" Miu cackled.

Welp, just like that, back to normal. For whatever normal _was_ for a genius inventer, a robot, and a boy way, way out of his element.

"Oh, and thanks. I know I don't seem... shit, in fact, I'm _not_ a very reliable or trustworthy person. Really, I'm just kinda a big piece of shit. But you told me anyhow. This is one secret they won't pry out of me, even if they cut me open and start diggin'."

"I really hope it never comes to that," Makoto remarked, scratching his chin with an awkward smile. "Well, you know how it is. We're friends. ... Oh, that reminds me. One more thing. What was that whole thing about being an 'augmented human'?"

"Tch. Oh, that?" Miu grinned. "I've learned some real important life lessons, Makoto. For instance, always make sure you leave boys with a hook. Something to keep them comin' back, so they don't run off on you. For any normal guy, these would do." Miu leaned forward, as if Makoto had perhaps failed to notice her massive chest, and the deep cleavage her pink shirt exposed. Drenched in her sweat, it clung tightly to her.

Makoto blushed and looked away rather than stare for too long.

"But you're so much of a soy boy, that won't work. So instead I'll use that. If you wanna know why I'm the ultimate life form, you'll just have to come back and see me some other time."

He grinned. "You bet. That'll be our second promise."

"Plus, I'll tell you why, unlike you and Kiibs, I don't got anyone to go back to. I could camp out on this island, sans the threat of fucking brutal murder, for the rest of my days. Given a steady supply of drugs, booze, sex, and materials for inventing." Makoto could help with one, maybe two of those things, tops. "I'm three for four now! So I'm having' a fuckin' ball. Ahem. Anyhow, it's related to a lesson you and Kiibo are gonna learn some day."

“Sometimes, it’s not about your feelings, or what you want.” Miu looked Makoto in the eye. "Sometimes shit just happens. Despair might be the ‘least logical of all possible responses’. But sometimes... it's all you got."

 

* * *

 

"Hajime, I need your help!"

“Sure.”

Hajime had nothing but time to burn.

Honestly, on this island, he really did.

Kaito was in fine form the day after the big meeting yesterday. Worried about a bunch of things. Unwilling to admit same. So instead, he'd get himself involved in other peoples' business under the guise of helping.

The usual.

"Himiko’s not doing so great," Kaito explained, as they walked towards Hotel 53. "It's been over two weeks, and she's barely left her room. You've seen how she acts."

Hajime couldn't deny he felt the same way about the little strawberry. "Yep. Like she's barely alive. Even lying around on the beach is usually too taxing for her. Chiaki looks like an Olympic athlete, next to her."

"Oh, yeah." Kaito rubbed the back of his head. "So, uh. How's it going with Chiaki? Given, you know? Stuff?"

In such a tiny community, everyone knew everyone’s business.

Hajime glared. "It's going fine. We'll talk about this whole thing and work it out like adults. Seriously. We're not in high school anymore. It's not something you need to concern yourself with. Alright?" Kaito reluctantly agreed. "Alright. Anyway, about Himiko. I'm worried too, so I've been trying to get through to her. Probably the most attention anyone has paid her aside from Tenko. But even she gave up eventually. I've tried to invite Himiko to the beach, casino, pool, even the library." He shook his head. "That last one turned her head a bit. Then she ordered me to get the books and bring them back to her. To avoid walking."

Kaito grinned, even as he knocked on Himiko's cabin door. Over, and over. "Oh yeah? What did you say then?"

"I said something pretty rude. Not like she even reacted. In any case, this isn’t news to anyone. Why the sudden wave of concern?”

“A few people have started running their mouths about bunkering up like Maki Roll. Except in their own cabins, just staying there day and night.”

Hajime shrugged. “I can’t say I blame them.”

“I sure as hell can! It’s the wrong approach.” Kaito shook his head, still knocking. “You can’t live like that. We can’t let the traitors beat us. We can’t lose to our own fear! It’s not enough to just survive, Hajime. We’re already on the brink. If we fall back any further, we won’t have any ground left to stand on. Anyhow, I’m gonna go get that dumbass Kazuichi to open up. And I’d like you to talk to Himiko. And then there’s gonna be Hiro later. Might have to draw lots for that one.”

“Don’t include Nagito in the drawing,” Hajime advised. That joke was poorly-timed, though. It meant he didn’t have any time to decline this weird mission before Himiko answered the door. Thus, he was committed.

Hajime Hinata, the Ultimate Counselor.

Compared to either of the guys, Himiko was tiny. Well, she was tiny in general. Her classic, even cliche, wrinkled black hat gave her a slight imaginary boost, but she was still very small. A slender figure in her black coat and red skirt. She crossed her arms and looked up at them, expression dour as ever. "Nyeh. What's with all the racket this time? Didn't you guys already search my cabin?"

Kaito blinked. "Huh? We’ve had Security working their asses off, but we still aren't even scheduled to start checking cabins until tomorrow."

"Huh. Then I guess Kokichi must have been lying when he said he was with Security." Himiko tapped her chin. "What a pain."

"That lie's so transparent. There's no way Security would enlist a troublemaker like him," Hajime said. "I mean, think about it."

"Nyeeh. Thinking is the biggest pain of all. Except for all the other things that are more of a pain."

They were off to the 'pain' races already.

Hajime had sure become familiar with the concept of pain when trying to talk to this girl. Even the way she spoke, slow and languid, drew out every word for a bothersome length of time.

Little wonder nobody bothered with her anymore.

This could become a vicious cycle of self-alienation. It was like a more extreme version of Gundham’s case. A thought he literally never considered he might ever have about anything. At least that lunatic was able to talk to others. He’d even assumed something resembling a leadership role in the group, thanks to Sonia’s prodding.

The group needed people to stick together. It was clear from earlier that the conditions for a witch hunt were already forming. This latest wave of paranoia wouldn’t make it any better. They last thing anyone needed was more outliers just doing their own thing, who wouldn’t listen to reason.

They were full up on those already.

“Sooo. I’ll be around, if you guys need me!” Kaito said, giving a wave as he departed. Leaving the two of them alone. “Later!”

_Coward._

Things were awkward.

Hey, _you_ try coming up with conversation topics for a person who just wasn’t that into human existence, or any facet or feature thereof. Except for The One Topic. The place he’d already been well-trained to never go.

“So.” Hajime’s attempts at small talk died a death.

“Can I go back to bed?”

Hajime shook his head. “It’s like six in the afternoon, Himiko. The sun probably won’t set for hours more. C’mon, there’s still plenty of daylight to burn. There’s so much we could do.”

“You can’t burn daylight,” Himiko smirked. “You don’t even understand that much?”

“... Are you acting like this on purpose to get me to leave?”

“Is it working?”

“No, it’s not. Come on, Himiko, even a great mage has to stretch her legs.”

“I’m not a magician, I’m a… oh, right. You’ve finally learned your place. Even so, there’s nowhere on this crazy island I’d want to go.” Himiko glared out with one eye from her tilted-forward hat, reaching up to steady it. “Especially with you, Hajime. Maybe that’s why you’re trying to be so buddy-buddy. You think I’d be a pretty good victim, right?”

The realization that she was taking that stuff seriously made Hajime’s blood run cold. Her, and how many others? Kaito said it wasn’t anything to worry about, but he was also not that smart.

“That’s stupid. You don’t really believe that. You don’t really think I could be a traitor.”

“I don’t know who, or what, to believe.” Himiko said. “Since I don’t know anyone that well. And if that message is right about the memory loss, then even knowing the ‘you’ right now isn’t enough. What if ‘Hajime Hinata’ is just the cover for something else? Something darker?”

“What if…?” Hajime shook his head. “We’re not doing this, Himiko. You know, for once, I’m a thousand percent with Kaito. If we start eating our own, then the traitors will be out of a job.”

“You’ve always been a suspicious kinda guy, right?” Himiko continued to glare up at him defiantly. “Now you’ve changed your tune. That’s like something the culprit in a murder mystery would do to confuse people. ‘There’s no way there’s a killer’ becomes ‘I’m the killer’, huh?”

“Listen. I have no way to prove my innocence from that kind of thing. But I’ve also done nothing wrong. The simple fact is, you’re right. You don’t know for sure that I, or anyone else, aren’t evil. That's life, Himiko. You don't have any assurances about anyone! Not when you get down to it. The only thoughts you'll ever hear are your own. What's going on in anyone else's head? Who knows?"

"You're not making a great case here, Hajime."

"The point is, you'll never get those assurances you're waiting for. There's no certainty to be found. But you can use your head, and think about it for yourself. Look at what's likely, and what isn't. Do the best you can, with what you know. What I know is that a person can't sit around all day. Your body, mind, and soul will all rot."

"That's fine. This world is nothing but a shell, anyhow. You're saying I can't give up on life, but why? Why can't I just tell the world to go away because it's a pain?"

"There's still so much out here. I mean, this stack of books, for example. I don't know if I mentioned it, but they're all about magic."

"Magic, huh."

"If you really want me to go away, I'll go put these back. And then, if you want them, you'll have to find somebody else to go with the library to you and get them all again. _Or_ you can just let me in."

"Nyeh... letting a guy into my room... That could be dangerous in other ways. That's what Tenko said."

Hajime rolled his eyes. At least something Tenko said stuck to her. Even if it was a dumb sentiment, it had an effect. "I've assumed all this time that you just choose not to think. But is there really nothing underneath that frumpled hat?"

"Nyeeeh. You're annoying."

Yet, she opened the door.

"Besides, I guess you wouldn't be stupid enough to attack me in my own cabin."

When people stop trusting you, it really sucks.

Hajime expected to step into a witch's tower, with bubbling cauldrons or something. Really, her room was standard. Even more standard than most. As weeks passed on the island, people gathered, traded, and purchased items for their rooms. Any place where people lived was bound to get less neat and formal, and more customized, over time. Himiko's room was entirely standard, though. it was a testament to how little she went out.

The only exception was a small stack of books, that doubled with the addition of Hajime's tribute. All were on similar subjects. Although the ones Himiko already had were in... "English, huh? Himiko, you know a lot of English?"

"It's like the most common language. I'd miss out on a lot of stuff about magic if I couldn't read English, which would be a huge pain."

If there was one thing that could break through any barrier for Himiko, it was magic. Hajime had rarely seen somebody so focused on one thing. If Himiko had other significant hobbies or interests, he had no clue what they were. Her devotion was greater than actual religious devotion he saw, and questioning it in any way, seeming to insult it in even the most accidental way, was just as much of a bad idea.

"A lot of people disrespect my magical talents, just because I can't provide them with proof on the spot. Which is dumb."

"Even a small demonstration would really show all those people," Hajime suggested.

"I'm not a magician. I'm a mage."

"I never said you were a magician, though."

"Magicians do tricks and entertain children. Mages do what they want, when they want. So I'll save my magic until the time is right."

"Sure." Hajime couldn't help a grin. "Plus, I bet you need to get spell components and stuff prepared, it must be a huge hassle."

"Tch. An amateur question. I guess I shouldn't expect anything else from somebody who hasn't even remembered his own talent." What did that have to do with anything? "You don't need that kind of annoying preparation to use magic. You just call on the power, like my Master taught me so long ago."

"Yeah... huh? Your Master? Like a mentor? This is the first I've heard about him."

"He's... like, a not-pain. What would you call that?"

Hajime would like to know the answer to that as well, some days. "A friend? Somebody who helps you out? A positive influence?"

'That works. I'll say this much. When I saw Master summon forth his magic that first time, it awakened the magic within me, too. I owe him everything."

Ah. So witnessing a magician's act at a young age left a big impression on Himiko.

That made a lot of sense. Growing up focused on something could strongly influence a person's whole life. Chiaki acted like she was born to do exactly one thing. It made her exceptional. The kind of person who stood out, for her specialization. But she was so specialized that it was like she'd never had any other kind of life. Not even basic life experiences.

Couldn't he call that profoundly sad?

Or was he just jealous?

"I'm glad you were able to make it into an Ultimate talent. You're right, I still can't remember what mine is. It doesn't feel like I have anything that, like, my life revolves totally around. Well, that used to be true. It's why I can speak with so much conviction about being listless and sitting around, because that used to be my primary hobby."

Himiko laid on her bed, holding a surprisingly thick, dusty leather-bound book over her head to read. She stayed that way for a while, until surprising Hajime with a follow-up question. "What changed?"

Hajime leaned back in his ever so kindly offered wooden chair, looking up towards the ceiling. It was covered in star stickers, whose green paint glowed faintly even in daylight. "Hope's Peak Academy. That's what. I really became a hardcore fan, I guess."

"A fan of a university? That's weird. Wierdo."

"Ha. I guess it is pretty weird. Well, now, it's beyond that. It seems absurd, given what happened." Hajime couldn't keep a wistful note from his voice as he remembered. They were supposedly events in the past, but even now, whenever he slept, he was likely to remember it. The Ultimate Hunt, the meteors. "I never even got to go there. Or really, we all went there for a time, but then we lost our memories of it. That’s even worse. I wonder what it was like."

"Probably the same as any other university," Himiko said. "Well, maybe. It was kind of a special place."

"The kids in my high school found out I wanted to go to HPA afterwards, and I was roundly mocked for it. Of course. You can't just 'want to go there' and then attend. You can't even pass some really grueling admissions test like in other places. The only test is whether you're scouted to become an Ultimate." Hajime sighed. "They started calling me the Ultimate Fanboy. Among other unflattering names."

Whenever they thought he wasn't listening, they said all kinds of stuff.

"I guess in a way, you can say I 'fell in love with hope'. Or like hope was inspired in me? I even thought, if I just worked hard enough, I could 'become hope'. That's silly, though. It's literally not how that works. I deserved all that stuff people said about me."

"Nyeh. People will always make fun of others. Especially if they sense you're special, and they're not. Even just wanting to be special or different is enough to cause it. Don't listen to crap like that ever, Hajime."

Whoa, did they just have a moment?

"Besides, when people asked me to use magic to help them out, they were usually just making fun of me. Plus, using magic for something like that can be dangerous. If you try to help others with it, sometimes you'll just end up causing a bigger tragedy. That's the law of the universe for you."

And right back to that.

Hajime read a lot about magic, but couldn’t say he got any smarter from the experience.

Time passed, and the shadows grew long.

"Hey Himiko, it feels weird to just read together in silence."

'If it's weird, you don't have to stick around. You've already delivered your tribute unto me."

What was she, a feudal lord?

"I mean, what if I read to you, instead? Like storytime."

"Nyeh. Are you treating me like a kid just because I'm small?"

"It's not like that. Hiyoko likes it when I read stories to her, so I just wondered. I know you two are friends."

"Hiyoko... isn't a pain. Not a big one, anyhow." Hajime would beg to differ, but hey. Maybe Himiko just couldn't muster up the energy to get bothered when Hiyoko threw a tantrum. That went so far into apathy that it emerged as some kind of impressive mental fortitude. "Okay, let's give it a try. Then I'll be able to rest my eyes."

"Alright."

"I'm just resting my eyes, though. I'm not going to fall asleep around somebody like you, so don't even try anything."

"I wasn't going to try anything anyway."

"Also, be careful with some of those ancient power words and incantations. If you aren't sure you can say them right, skip it. Otherwise, you could find yourself cursed. And never, ever say the Dark Lord's name. Or else."

"Got it."

 

* * *

 

When Hajime returned to the hotel, Chiaki was there.

She was still mad, no doubt. The excessively fluffy, soft gamer girl wouldn’t even meet his eyes. She buried her face in her portable entertainment system, mashing the buttons with robotic precision. The chittery, happy little electronic noises didn’t mesh with the heavy mood at all.

Still, he had to try. “Hey, Chiaki.”

To his surprise, she answered from beneath her cat-ears hoodie. “Have you checked your mail?”

“... Huh?”

“It’s important to check it, you know.”

“Uh, I guess.” Nobody really used the mail system, despite Kirumi and her gang offering to act as the island’s postal service too. There was no end to how much people would just rely on Kirumi, and Hajime was no exception. Lately, people could probably appreciate the safety that came with a little distance. “Yeah, you’re right. Good thinking.”

“You’re gonna check your mail, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll check it,” Hajime assured her, still caught off guard by her sudden forcefulness. “I promise.”

“Alright. Goodbye.”

Where was she going, as night fell, and without a buddy?

She wasn’t the only one who didn’t take the Buddy System seriously. Nagito came and went without a care in the world for his safety. Or the new law. That guy was way too careless in a lot of ways. Which led to this whole situation in the first place.

Hajime reached out to touch his own lips, remembering vivid sensations.

Sure enough, the mailbox bearing a little pixel rendition of himself had its flag raised.

Leave it to the Ultimate Gamer to notice a raised flag, har har.

There was one message in his mailbox. It was a note, with printed words on printed paper. Neatly folded up.

**> Come to Chandler Beach at midnight. If it’s not too much trouble.**

The first part of the note sounded ominous, while the second sentence was too indecisive.

_I wonder who could have ever sent this._

At least it being so obvious meant that Hajime didn’t need to worry about being lured out by a traitor or something.

There was just one problem with this meeting. Fortunately, the solution had already come home and was in his own cabin.

Hajime just had to knock.

“Ah, good evening, Hajime.”

Nagito answered the door without his care-worn green jacket, leaving his thin upper body covered with just a white t-shirt bearing that red symbols. The Ultimates loved their symbols. Even Hajime’s usual necktie had a cool one. It was just the thing to do when you were an Ultimate, apparently.

“Were you trying to get some rest?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Something wrong? Back for more?”

It d-definitely wasn’t that. “I need your help. I have to go somewhere tonight.”

“Oh, you need a buddy. While I don’t really feel worthy to be called something like an Ultimate’s ‘buddy’, I guess it does make sense.” Nagito had the strangest blend of self-assured blithe confidence and plummeting, horribly bad self-esteem. A life tossed around by the winds of fate must have led to that careless personality.

His whole approach to life was like somebody had crudely mixed hope and despair together.

“Sure, I’m always down for a good secret mission.”

When the time came, Hajime met up with Nagito at the gate.

Together, they reassured the night watchman, a long-suffering Mahiru nursing a big cup of coffee, they weren’t going to be out long. And that Chiaki would probably be back soon, too.

“I’m positive,” Hajime said with a sigh. “Just have to sort some things out.”

“Oh, I get it. Just do me a favor, you two.” Mahiru shook her head. “Man up and take responsibility. There comes a time where you can’t run from the things you’ve done anymore. Sooner or later, it all catches up with you.”

Given how Traditional Mahiru was, the fact that the two boys who liked to make out got off with that level of a lecture was a mercy.

They walked into the night together.

Hajime suggested, purely for safety, that they hold hands. The warmth of Nagito’s hand, and the strength of his grip, spoke to the willowy boy’s surprising vitality.

Unlike how it was during the Ultimate Festival days back, no lights were strewn up to repel the darkness. It just enveloped everything. Luckily, twinklings stars and a waxing moon overhead gave them enough light.

Going to Central Island made Hajime stare at the blocked off bridges.

“Hey, Nagito. We’ve got a lot more tools lately. Could we get to the other islands without Usami?”

Nagito shook his head with a worried frown. “It’s like the prison. Those barriers resisted Mukuro firing an RPG at them.” He paused. “And not the kind Chiaki would approve of. Actually, given the whole ‘modern warfare’ craze, maybe she’d like that, too.”

_Wow, video games really do cause violence._

“So we’re stuck until Usami deigns to return,” Hajime sighed. “Typical. She treats us like kids, then just up and leaves.”

“It’s weird, to be ‘stuck’ in paradise,” Nagito remarked.

“Gopher Island won’t be a real paradise until we get the traitors, Nagito. Thanks to that prison, we just have to catch them. Then we lock them up, and throw away the key.”

“That assumes we can get said key back from Kokichi. We can still lock people up without it, but he could, at any point, decide they need some fresh air. Maybe we should, you know, make sure he can’t do that.”

“That’s a little harsh. But given how dangerous things are, I can’t disagree,” Hajime admitted. “If he’s in there too, he won’t be able to let anyone out. Shame we’re not the ones making the decisions around here. Come on, let’s go. Second Island awaits.”

The diner was just off from the bridge, the tunnel was just after, and Ross House and Chandler Beach awaited.

The beach house was lit up, spilling light all through the covered, sheltered private beach. Light bounced off the gentle, dark ocean waters rolling in and out, the flawless sands, and down some of the tunnel. The light was a welcome change, although his eyes had just finished adapting to having nothing but moonlight, which meant he had to blink away some tears.

When he did, he found Chiaki.

Fast asleep.

She was sitting against the front door of Ross House. Facing out towards the sea, slumped over. Her head lulled sideways. There was a cartoon bubble moving up and down from her nose as she breathed. In spite of, or even because of that little detail, she looked as she always did while sleeping. Like an angel.

“I don’t want to wake her up when she’s like this,” Hajime said, smiling.

“What are you going to tell her?” Nagito wondered.

“Huh?”

“I mean, she’s waiting out here for your decision,” Nagito said. “That’s my impression, anyhow. I don’t want to put words into the mouth of an Ultimate, but if my meager-”

“Let’s take the self-deprecation as read,” Hajime suggested sardonically. “What do you mean by ‘my decision’? She never asked me anything.”

“Not with words,” Nagito said. “Then again, I didn’t use words to make my feelings clear. Words will do, but you know what they say. Actions speak much louder.”

“Chiaki never struck me as a woman of action.”

“Yet she came all the way out here in the dead of night, despite danger and rules. I hope you’ve got something worthy to say, to answer that courage.”

Hajime really didn’t. He’d just do as he always did. He’d make do, and do his best. It was time for them to talk, honestly. Or for him to figure something out.

He gently shook her. “Uh. Hey, Chiaki. Hey. I’m here. Well, we’re here.”

Chiaki stirred from her sleep, letting out a titanic yawn before struggling up to her feet. She rubbed at her eyes with a long sleeve. “Oh, Nagito too. What a surprise to see you here.”

“Yeah, it’s odd that I’d happen to end up accompanying Hajime over here,” Nagito nodded.

Hajime stared at them. He expected a little more surprise than this, at least. Chiaki wasn’t a very expressive person, but come on. More to the point, it felt like… “Hey, are you two working together or something-”

“Whoops. I tripped.”

A second after she said it, Nagito shoved Chiaki.

Into Hajime.

Even caught by surprise, and even though there was quite a lot of Chiaki, he managed to catch her safely and respectfully. Though he was bewildered. “Chiaki?! Are you okay? Nagito, what the hell-”

“You’re hard.”

Hajime tensed up. “W-What?”

“Your chest is so hard and firm. Your arms are strong. You’re definitely a man.”

What, exactly, was the smart reply to that?

Luckily, Nagito knew. He had no problem stepping forward, completing a Chiaki Sandwich. His voice, already low and passionate, hit a playful, seductive note that Hajime had heard a few times before. Always murmurd into his own ear, or neck. Now, into Chiaki’s. “Makes sense. You’re incredibly soft, Chiaki. You’re a woman. A woman who wants to learn more about life. And you want Hajime to carefully, patiently instruct you. Right?”

Chiaki nodded, face bright red. It was the first time Hajime saw such a calm, pacific girl get riled up. He could feel her shuffling, shifting around, and squirming between them.

“And just to confirm, so there’s no misunderstandings. I can teach you a lot of things, too. Things even Hajime couldn’t. You don’t mind a worthless human like me putting his hands on you?”

“Nobody is worthless,” Chiaki replied with a huff, glancing back over her shoulder. “I wish you wouldn’t keep saying that kind of stuff.”

Nagito laughed without a care in the world. “Sorry. You don’t have life experience, Chiaki, so of course you’d say that. I’ve got way too much. So of course I’ll say that some people are just totally worthless. It’s just how we are. It’ll be super tough to change. You know what I’m asking, right?”

“I want… it all.” Chiaki admitted. “I feel like I can’t get enough. I want to learn about the world. About people. I want to be around you two. I want to be friends, I want… whatever comes after that. I want both of you. I want to touch, and be touched. I want to be able to feel what you guys felt that day.”

Nagito was right.

An innocent, sheltered girl doing all this, admitting these things, took a lot. Hajime himself wasn’t able to put those kind of feelings into words yet. She was ahead of him.

He felt the same way, though. There was no longer any reason to hesitate.

Hajime took Chiaki’s first kiss, hugging her tight.

She leaned into it, against his body, pressing up against him in a blatant, intimate manner. Chiaki tasted so different from Nagito, but in a way Hajime couldn’t have possibly described if he was asked. He just knew he’d be able to tell them apart, even if all his other senses were gone and he had to rely just on the taste. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her cheeks grew rosy with color. Hajime’s remained open, because he wanted to see more of her.

He wanted to see what Nagito was doing over there, too. He worked on her body with deft, skillful pale hands, wasting little time and leaving no boundaries between them at all. He had no boundaries anymore, Chiaki’s permission letting him go wherever he felt like to admire such a thick, generous, wonderful girl.

It was a moment that would last forever in Hajime’s memory.

Even though, or perhaps because, it was so short.

In moments, Chiaki’s uncomfortable squirming became struggling. Her eyes opened, wide with fear. She froze up, and then pushed them both and tried to move.

Talking into Hajime’s mouth, she pleaded, “Stop. Stop. Stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please.”

_The hell?!_

Hajime let her go in alarm.

Nagito followed suit. With a look of irritation, but not one of surprise. “So, this was your limit.”

Chiaki sank to her knees, shivering. “Yeah. I thought I could just push past all that. Like, if you do it, it’ll all work out. Or something. I guess that’s not good enough. The difficulty level… was Nightmare mode.”

“Chiaki, what’s going on?! Are you okay?”

Chiaki looked up at him with a forlorn expression, but no words.

Nagito shook his head. “She’s not ready. No wonder. Do you really think a girl who hasn’t experienced life, like Chiaki, could just start doing _this and that_ right away?”

“I guess not,” Hajime nodded. “But Chiaki, seriously, you’re shaking. Are you-”

“I’ll be okay.” Chiaki looked away. “I’m not okay. But I’ll be okay. I think. I still want to understand everything. I still want everything. I still want you to teach me. I still want you to touch me. I just need to take it slowly.”

Nagito reproached him. “We can’t push her, Hajime. Sheesh. How brutish.”

_Hey, you were the one literally pushing her into this. And I saw where your hands were going._

Now wasn’t the time to snipe at Nagito. There was always later for that. In this moment, he had to be a man, just like Mahiru said.

The idea of pressuring Chiaki, or ever making her do something she wasn’t fully into, was unthinkable for him. He needed to focus, and make that crystal clear.

“Chiaki, this isn’t a race.” Hajime helped her stand back up, before quickly backing off, like Nagito had. To give her as much space as she needed. “I’m still a mess, thanks to this guy over here. It’s natural if you need some time to adjust. Or think about it, or prepare yourself. Or whatever. Whatever you need. Just know that Nagito and I feel the same as you. We want you to experience those things, we want to show you all sorts of stuff. Hell, we want to have a relationship. In all that entails, through thick and thin. When you’re ready.”

“Mmh.” She nodded. “Until then. Still friends?”

Nagito tapped the side of his head. “Duh. You’re the one who conned me into being arrogant enough to call myself your friend. So you two are gonna have to take responsibility for that. For embracing such a fucked-up guy instead of running the other way. For making me feel like there might actually be some hope for the future. Even if I know better.”

As they promised, they brought Chiaki back, safe and sound, and the three of them parted ways.

Hajime was worried about the future, sure. As ever. Tonight, though, he felt like some kind of progress had been made.

It was just like with the clues and all that other stuff. Being on the same page was the most important thing of all. He hadn’t understood Chiaki’s feelings, not really, until she just came out and said them. He had to do better in the future, if he was ever going to be worthy of her, or Nagito for that matter.

Whatever his talent turned out to be, he could just focus on being a good man, a good friend, and a good boyfriend when the time came. That would be enough.


	29. 2-7. Free Time Events V (Multiple)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, I've done it. Five updates in a single month! Four in the main Voyage, and a Vignette too, featuring Angie's thighs. The most important subject. I think I'm going to shift to try and do more Vignettes now to explore other aspects of the island, the various ships developing over time, etc. Although I can't say anything for sure.
> 
> Except that we're gonna ride this wave of hope and despair all the way to the finale! Eventually. Thanks for reading, everyone. All your comments, discussion in the Discord, wonderful support, feedback, it's all so important. Especially when you spot one of the plentiful typos and PM me so I can quietly fix it before anyone notices, that's just the best-

_Meteors, streaking through the sky on tails of fire. Raining by the hundreds as onlookers scream and run for cover._

_Scissors, coated in sickening hot pink, dripping onto a bare concrete floor. Forming countless little puddles of stolen life._

"... ichi?"

_A needle falling to a floor polished to a mirror-sheen, glinting in the harsh, sterile lights. The tip sharp and full of some unknown liquid._

_A musical note hair pin, sitting by the side of the pool. The water shimmers and glints from the cloudless tropical sun._

"Hey! Shuichi!"

**Bang!**

“Uwah!” Shuichi flailed about, awake in an instant. Since he'd been leaning back in his chair when Kaito hit the table, the Ultimate Detective tumbled backwards in surprise.

He landed in a heap on the hardwood floor of Teruteru’s restaurant.

"I'm awake," Shuichi mumbled, staring up at the lights overhead. As he blinked, the bags beneath his darkened eyes were obvious to the people leaning over the table in concern.

“That’s my report,” Kyouko concluded, sparing a glance towards her partner on the ground. “In summary, Sayaka’s integrated into the cult with no issues. No further incidents have occurred. The only news is the foregone conclusion of both Kiibo and Gonta finally converting. This brings their active membership to seven, and recruitment efforts continue.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi grinned sheepishly, getting himself up off the floor with a bandaged hand from Kiyo. In spite of his wire-thin frame, he was surprisingly strong. Shuichi dusted off off his jacket and pants. “Sorry, I was, uh, maybe dozing off a bit.”

“Do be a bit more careful,” Kiyo advised, before withdrawing to the edge of the table again and going back to his notebook. He wasn’t a member of the meeting, so much as its glorified secretary.

“The hell’s wrong with you lately, Shuichi?” Kaito asked, shaking his head. “Get your head in the game!”

“I wonder what could be bothering him,” Kaede rolled her eyes. “Would it be quicker to list the things we haven’t made him do lately?”

“He’s not working any harder than anyone else in Security,” Junko shook her head, sending her fluffy pink pigtails flying around in the tropical morning breeze. “That’s not the problem with your little boyfriend. Succi here isn’t sleeping, even when he’s given the chance.”

“What? Is that true? Is the insomnia back?” Kaede demanded.

“Are you too possessed of dark dreams, Saihara?” Gundham asked. “Omens and portents of the coming storm?”

“You could say that, I guess.” Shuichi gave a forlorn grin. One of the Four Dark Devas of Destruction, Cham-P probably, chittered over to the edge of the table. He reached out to pet the hamster, assuring it that he was okay. “Just some restless nights lately. Bad dreams. I’ll be fine. Especially if you guys take my suggestion and relax the search. I’m ready to give my report, if you-”

“One sec, Succi.” Junko raised her hand. Her long, hot pink nails matched those blood-soaked scissors. “We’ll hear it. But first, I need to say something. I can tell that lunatic is thinking Moogs looks like an easy mark. That is _not_ acceptable.”

“I know how you feel,” Kaito nodded. “That freakshow’s probably gonna go after people like Himiko or Kaz next, after they-”

“No, you don’t get it. If Angie, or any of her little ducklings, tries to take what belongs to me, I’ll kill them.”

Kaede sighed. “Junko, come on. That kind of talk won’t help anything.”

“No, Kayaday, listen. I’ve got a perfect set of extra-sharp metal nails from Princess Celestia. She says they’re perfect for tearing some fucking asshole’s eyes right out. I won’t get Mookie to do this one. I’ll do it myself.”

“Junko, we’ve been over this,” Kaito’s turn to glare. “You’re not allowed to kill people.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that rule!” Junko replied. That was true; she had to be outvoted by the other two. “More importantly, Mookie is Head of Security. She’ll totally back me, right?~”

“Um, well.” Mukuro looked away. “I think everyone’s right, Junko.”

“... You don’t agree with me?”

“That’s not what I meant!” The Ultimate Soldier replied in an instant, blue eyes snapping over to meet Junko’s with a pleading look. Like she'd done some terrible sin by saying that killing people was maybe not a good idea. Who would know better about that, anyhow? “I’m always on your side, Junko. I’m always watching out for your best interests. But also for what’s good for you. And killing somebody would be… bad for you.”

Everyone stared in astonishment.

“It’s official, sis. You are spending too much time hanging out with Dr. Eggman.”

“I’m sorry. Have I… disappointed you?”

“Don’t be dumb, Mookie. You’ve never disappointed my expectations. Not once.”

Mukuro blushed, bright red, and the two snuggled up, regardless of being, you know, _related_.

“Anyway,” Shuichi diverted attention from that very awkward little aside, and a pair of sisters getting way too close for comfort. He got up on front of the small gathering. It was just the Council, Kaito, Mukuro, Kyouko, and of course himself. Just the people who needed to know. Plus the ever-watchful Kiyo, who recorded events but didn’t interfere, like an advanced alien civilization. And just as inscrutable- “I’m ready to give what might be my final report on this, unfortunately.”

“Please proceed,” Kaede smiled at him, hands together.

Shuichi cleared his throat. “We’ve now been on Gopher Island for three full weeks. Over the past week, Security has looked everywhere for the missing guns and ammo.” He glanced over at Kiyo again, but then shook his head. There was no reason to assume Kiyo would break his steadfast neutrality now and start blabbing to people. It wasn’t his style. “We haven’t found any of it.”

It wasn’t news, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

“How is that physically possible. human?!” Gundham demanded. “Are you all, perhaps, blind? Were you stricken with a ray of enfeeblement from that mage girl?! There are a finite number of spaces upon these islands. Is that not correct, Saihara?”

“That’s right,” Shuichi admitted. “There are only so many buildings, and rooms therein. Given that, the littering alarms, and enough time, then the number of items we can’t find should be exactly zero. We’ve been everywhere. Every cabin, every closet. Even your own underwear drawer, Junko.”

“I hope you took some samples~” Junko replied, totally unfazed, and back to her usual self.

“I didn’t,” Shuichi replied without hesitation. “We spared no space, for any reason. I saw to it myself. We checked for hidden compartments in every building. We looked everywhere, and we did it three times over at my behest. We even confirmed that the guns didn’t show back up at the military base. I won’t say that it’s impossible to find them, but I will say that we haven’t done it. And we aren’t likely to. In fact, unless something changes, our chances are approaching zero.”

“I can’t believe it,” Kaito shook his head. “It’s like they just vanished into thin goddamn air. How?!"

“I wish I had answers,” Shuichi said. “I’m sorry, everyone.”

“If they really are gone, somehow,” Kaede said, nervously, “Then that’s good news, right? I mean, if you’ve checked every single place they could be, and there’s no guns, then… there’s no guns. Right?”

“We can’t assume that,” Junko snapped on her optimism with her usual vigor. “In fact, it’s more likely you just didn’t check somewhere good enough, Succi. One of the labs, maybe?”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” Shuichi said.

“You sound confident, for a failure. What makes you think you’ve covered all the bases?”

"Because I even checked a place that, as far as everyone else on the island knows, doesn’t exist.” Shuichi took a deep breath. It was time. It was time to stop hiding anything, at least from this group. It was time to come out with that disturbing clue he’d uncovered, regardless of the consequences.

He was too damn tired to care anymore.

“Touko’s Ultimate Lab features a hidden compartment within it. Touko asked me to help investigate it. Within the underground chamber was a… shrine. To the serial killer known as Genocider Syo. Touko herself has a disabling fear of blood that causes her to pass out, so she couldn’t explore. The place is really creepy. She doesn’t even know about it, because I told her there was nothing of interest down there. Therefore, she can’t have used it as a hiding space. To confirm that beyond any shadow of a doubt, I searched the area while Touko was having an all too rare bath. No guns, no ammo.”

This time, it was his turn to drop a bomb on the Council that left them all speechless. His failure wasn’t news, but this was.

“Therefore, I would like to formally propose that the Council halts this search, because-”

“Hold. Up.” Junko glared at him with a face-melting intensity. “Shuichi. Can you maybe hold the fucking phone, and explain why you never thought it was a good idea to mention this before now?!”

“How long have you known of this dark portent, you fool?!” Gundham demanded. That’s all he did today, make demands. Ah well, he was just voicing the general mood.

As expected, Kaito and Kaede were quick to leap to his defense, even when he didn’t deserve it. “Guys, calm down, I’m sure Shuichi had a damn good reason,” Kaito said. Kaede nodded enthusiastically.

“Then let’s hear it,” Junko said, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

“I knew this would happen,” Shuichi explained wearily. “The fact is, what I’ve found doesn’t constitute evidence of anything. I didn’t ignore it, or allow a possible danger to go unnoticed. Kyouko can attest that as soon as I found out about it last week, before the Festival, I gave her a note explaining the situation. A contingency plan, should the worst come to pass.”

“That worst case scenario never materialized,” Kyouko nodded. “So if you want to start pointing fingers, please, feel free to point them my way, as well.”

“Kaede, Kaito, Kyouko...” Shuichi smiled. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Kyouko said, coldly. “I agreed with your assessment, and I still do. If nothing has come of it for this long, then it’s not likely that Touko has anything to do with Genocider Syo. There would have been signs, and I was looking. Aside from her probably being some kind of twisted fan, or admirer. That’s hardly a crime, considering Sonia’s proclivities.”

“That’s right,” Kaede nodded. “We have to trust in the detective work of the Ultimate Detectives, guys. I mean, it’s right there in their titles.”

It wasn’t so easy to placate the rest of the Council.

Even Junko eventually realized that there was nothing to be done about it, though. At least, about the past.

“The question must now become; what do we do about this, going forward?” Gundham asked. “Do we take action against this human, who may be, although a weak and frail woman, possessed of a certain demonic spirit? Or do we let danger fester in our midst?”

“That’s not exactly accurate,” Kaede objected. “It’s like they said. There’s no evidence of anything. Yet… I can’t help but be concerned, as well.”

“We don’t need evidence,” Junko spat. “This isn’t a trail, and we’re no jury anymore. The only rules are the ones we decide on right here. So if we want to lock up Touko, we’ve just got to give the word, and Mookie will get it done. I call the vote.”

Kaede objected. “Hang on, Junko, let’s discuss-”

“I call the vote,” Junko repeated. “That means it’s time, Kayaday. Put your cards on the table.”

Kaede glared back at her, not backing down. “I vote ‘no’. If there’s no proof, and she hasn’t done anything wrong, locking her up is wrong. I thought you were all about freedom and taking it easy?”

“That was before somebody fucked over my Mookie and put us on all mega red alert,” Junko replied. “Now, I vote ‘yes’. I wouldn't hesitate, bitch, and neither should we.” Internet memes, the highest form of political argument.

That just left the Ultimate Animal Breeder, and Supreme Overlord of Ice. Stuck in the middle, as usual. Still just as anxious about it as ever, being sandwiched between a pair of opposing women.

He definitely handled it with less grace than Makoto, the lucky jerk.

“T-There are factors at play here beyond the understanding of mere mortals,” Gundham proclaimed, sweating profusely beneath his grand purple scarf. He pulled it up around his face, as he failed to meet either of his fellow Councilors’ gazes. “Such a powerful force might be unleashed, and yet. If we begin to act in such an arbitrary manner, then the effects will ripple far past this one incident. I can only vote to reject this proposal.”

Shuichi let out the breath he’d been holding. “Of course, if there are any signs of danger, we’ll report it to you and take whatever measures are necessary. But let’s wait until we have a reason to arrest somebody before we do it.”

“ _Kukuku._ What a revolutionary thought there.”

“I wouldn’t want to toss anyone else in there with that bastard,” Kaito nodded. “How’s the analysis on Kokichi’s door, anyhow?”

“The attacker was wearing gloves,” Shuichi said. “Same as the break-in. There’s no solid evidence anywhere. However, given that our search also didn’t turn up the key to the prison, Kokichi may well be telling the truth for once.”

“It vanished into the ether, as well?!” Gundham grimaced. “Impossible!”

“I personally searched Kokichi, multiple times. At his own request.” Shuichi sighed. “He doesn’t have it, and it isn’t anywhere, and he’s been in jail. He can’t have been moving it around or anything. Maybe it’s time to turn him loose.”

That passed with less contention, although Kaede voted against it. Not because she actually wanted to keep him in there, but more as a symbolic vote, since the other two went first and she knew it was a done deal.

Such was politics.

Things seemed so much simpler before the Ultimate Festival.

Now, there was more to consider than just what their reaction to a situation would be. They had to account for what passed as public opinion on the island.

Kaito said, “If we just call off the search and say nothing, people are gonna naturally think that the guns are still loose.”

“They’ll think that because it’s true,” Kaede said with a wince.

“That’s all the more reason we’ve gotta say something,” Kaito said. “Later today, I’ll announce that we’re done searching. We found the weapons, and they’ve been returned to the armory without incident. We don’t got any clues as to who stole them, but at least it’s over for now.”

“That’s impressively different from the reality of our situation,” Gundham remarked. “I did not take you for such a… dishonest human, Kaito. I suppose the original sin still taints all of your doomed race.”

Kaito sighed. “Look, I just want to keep people from freaking out over nothing. If that involves stretching things a little, hey. It’s better than the alternative.”

“I guess we shouldn’t have expected anything else from a guy who cheated to become an astronaut,” Junko said, with her usual massive grin when she was dunking somebody deep beneath the earth. A familiar expression by now.

“Grr! If you think I couldn’t have made it the normal way, you clearly don’t know enough what a badass I am!”

Despite expressing reservations, Gundham and Junko both voted to allow this. Kaede, who had fallen silent, voted against.

“Try not to feel so bad about it, my Friend,” Kiyo counseled her. “You saw yourself how _adjusting_ the truth can yield high dividends. It’s not something to do regularly. Now that you’re the government on this island, however, it may become necessary. It’s certainly true that back in Japan, the government would sometimes conceal information. Not always for the wrong reasons, either.”

“What do you mean?” Shuichi asked.

“Would you really be happy living your daily life if you knew a terrorist had been arrested just before he could blow up your child’s school? Or that negotiations with a foreign power had nearly broken down into war? If the result was that no harm was done, most people would prefer to never know. To live blind, but happy lives. In fact, a primary function of government is to provide that reassurance.”

“Aren’t you a big fan of humanity?” Shuichi asked. “That paints people in a pretty unflattering light. This idea that they can’t handle the truth.”

“Oh, on the contrary. I think it’s just another _beautiful_ contradiction in man’s nature, not some great flaw. It’s not something to judge. If it doesn’t matter, why not be happy? Isn’t life short enough? Now, this principle can go too far, and lead to disaster. But you won’t get there in a week. So don’t worry so much, _kukuku._ ”

Not like Shuichi had any right to criticize, either.

At least nothing else went wrong.

Shuichi couldn’t help wondering when the next shoe would drop, but it wasn’t now. At least they could try and cherish these little bits of what was becoming ‘normal’ on Gopher Island.

A new normal that didn’t include Usami at all.

She had yet to emerge since the Festival.

They were now a week without any contact. At least Rocketpunch Supermarket had been resupplied. Basic needs were still met, and it probably meant Usami was still active. It was tough to know even how far they were to the next progress gate.

All anybody could do when she was around was complain about her. Yet her total and sudden absence let a quiet unease sneak into the island.

Day by day, everyone could only wonder where she’d gone, and what was happening past their own meager sight.

“Before we go, I’d just like to say that I’m going to keep looking for them,” Shuichi assured everyone. “Not full time, but just. I’m not going to give this up until I figure out what really happened to all the missing items. Until I have answers for you all.”

Kaito couldn’t help a grin of satisfaction at his sidekick’s resolve. “Then, that’s it until next time. Thanks for comin’, everybody. This meeting is over.”

 

* * *

 

Shuichi never expected to become a regular at Sakura’s dojo.

It was the new hotspot for all the island’s fighters. They finally had a proper training ground to discharge all that reckless, restless pent-up energy in a productive manner.

Shuichi steered clear of that, as any of the fighters would snap him like a twig.

He also wasn’t very fond of the bountiful, overflowing stockpile. A good part of Sakura’s entire Ultimate Lab was dedicated to an insulated warehouse, packed with world-class protein powder. While Shuichi could be happy for Sakura’s new lease on life, he always politely declined the offer to take some of the disgusting stuff himself.

He was never going to be the kind of person who physically fought. That wasn’t what the group expected of him, and it wasn’t what he wanted.

Yet, he visited often.

Akane tolerated his presence, and could be relied upon to get his name right about seventy-five percent of the time. That was almost like progress.

Even Tenko, when she wasn’t in public with the rest of the cult, could give him the time of day. She was even grateful. Not grateful enough to reconsider whether he was stealing her chi energy or whatever, but she didn’t berate him anymore. Or call him a cuck, or a bitch-baby.

That was almost like progress.

Shuichi produced a certain scroll from his black jacket as he approached the dojo, already well familiar with the beautiful, pink bloom of the sakura trees out front. They swayed peacefully in tropical winds, thriving despite all logic in a climate not suited to them. A transplanted slice of Japan that nevertheless took deep root on Gopher Island.

They were a good example to take for the Ultimates.

He waved to Sakura and Nekomaru, having to crane his neck upwards and pull the brim of his black hat. The two muscular behemoths awaited him on the front porch, rising from long-suffering wooden rocking chairs.

“Is that the item you spoke of, Shuichi?” Sakura wondered. Her deep, gravelly voice betraying a note of excitement and worry in equal measure. “Could it really be?”

“See for yourself,” Shuichi said. He pulled off a red ribbon, allowing the scroll to fall open. It stopped just before it hit the ground, a long stretch of parchment totally covered in marks. Densely-packed spaces featured a variety of elegant calligraphy. In brushstrokes of strong black ink that hadn’t faded despite its age, a header at the very top indicated the startling nature of this document. **“The Codex of the Oogami Family.”**

“Impossible,” Nekomaru said, picking his nose in deep thought. “I’d say that, but I’ve learned my lesson by now. The only ‘impossible’ on this island is getting any facetime with that rabbit. Everything else is up for grabs.”

“Including, apparently, the sacred Codex of my family.” Sakura reached out for it, and Shuichi gladly handed it over. Sakura’s mood wasn’t that of outward anger, or joy. She was completely blown away. The Ultimate Martial Artist dropped her usual air of cool, collected calm. She just stared, her battle-scarred expression searching. “Hmm. I have memorized the Codex. This is it.”

“You’re certain?” Shuichi asked. “Couldn’t it be some kind of replica, like this dojo? Using my lab, I positively dated this to at least two centuries old, but that’s just the parchment. In older times, it could often be washed and reused. It's much more difficult to account for the ink.”

“This dojo is different from the one my family has maintained for over three hundred years,” Sakura explained. “Yet the Codex is not different. It is not an objective thing I could prove in court, yet I know it within the deepest parts of my soul.”

Shuichi didn’t feel inclined to doubt her judgement. “Then that’s that. You can have it with my blessing, of course.”

“Thank you, Shuichi.” Sakura nodded. “Truly. You haven’t just helped me. By recovering this item, you have done a service for my family, too. I will ensure that my family never forgets its debt, to you and yours.”

_Uncle will be happy to hear that, if I ever see him again._

“Where the hell did you find it?!” Nekomaru asked.

“Where everybody finds all the weird items,” Shuichi replied. “Celeste’s casino. She’s told me in the past that even she isn’t sure what’s in those vending and roulette machines. Kazuichi’s best efforts couldn’t get them open. They appear to be just as tamper-proof as the other ‘invincible areas’.”

Sakura shook her head. “I must speak with them as well. I must find out how the codex made its way out here, but that is for another time.” She put it away, with a sigh. “Please excuse me, gentlemen. I have much to consider. Don’t let me keep you from your training.”

Shuichi watched her go. She looked so incredibly lonely in that moment.

“Maybe giving her that wasn’t the best idea. She’s going to be thinking about all sorts of things now, because of me.” Their families back home, a subject few tried to bring up anymore. Even more than in the first days, going there was just a recipe for pain.

“Don’t start that shit,” Nekomaru chastised him. “Sakura would be thinking about her family regardless. Giving the scroll right to her was a hell of a thing to do.”

“Thanks.” Shuichi smiled. “So, what’s the plan today, coach?”

Nekomaru cracked his knuckles. “First, a basic physical package. Based on your current level of fitness… I’d say running ten laps around the entire island should be a good warmup.” Ten laps?! “After which, we can get into the main course.” Shuichi found a way to get even more pale. Nekomaru burst out in grand peals of laughter. “Ahahaha! The look on your forlorn face, sheesh. I’m kidding! Mostly. Let’s take a lap together, at a brisk walk! While we continue our conversation from yesterday.”

It was amazing how much of life was about context.

During the search, Shuichi walked,but he was used to that. He was accustomed to the grunt work of detective jobs, after all. They involved moving his legs just as much as his brain. Yet, if Nekomaru told him to do that ‘just’ to get physically fit, he’d have considered it a serious burden.

No mile was really a mile when you were with a friend, though. Even though talking should have just stolen precious air from his burning lungs, it was worth it for the distraction.

“You’ve already felt It’s power! I don’t need cheap words to tell you what you’ve experienced through your own senses!”

That was true. Shuichi wasn’t sure if he’d have made it through the last week without a few doses of It, much as he was worried at first. Kaede encouraged him to give it a try, though. And also tried to slyly ask if she could watch, for some reason.

Maybe she got the wrong impression about things.

“The stuff I’ve told you before is junk that any ol’ team manager could do! It’s absolutely vital work, but it’s not the domain of an Ultimate,” Nekomaru said. “However, It sets me apart from the pack. It’s what allows my athletes to push on in any sporting event, Even until they’re at risk of falling over dead, if that’s how far they want to take things!”

“That’s a little extreme,” Shuichi remarked, as they walked the length of Fifth Island together along the road. “If you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I’m a pretty **extreeeeme** guy! Have to be, after all.”

“You.. have to be?”

“I don’t have the time to take things nice and slow like others.”

“You said that yesterday, too,” Shuichi said. “Could you elaborate?”

“As long as you swear you won’t let this get out to the rest of the group.” Shuichi nodded gravely, forcing himself to meet Nekomaru’s eyes. “Mhm. Very well. It’s a promise between men, then. I’ll just come out with it! I was born with a heart defect.”

“... What?”

“The doctors have told me time and again since I was a little kid. I apparently wouldn’t make it to twenty-five? Ha! At least I showed that shitty diagnosis who’s boss, right? I’m well past that, and still ticking. For now.”

Shuichi was silent.

“Even as we speak, I… I can feel it.” The massive towering man clenched a fist, looking away. “I’m not just fighting along with all of you, I’m also fighting on the inside too! Hahaha, what better fate for somebody called the Demonic Hell Manager?!”

Shuichi stopped in his tracks. “Please tell me you’re joking around.”

“I’m a lot of things to a lot of people. But I’m no liar, Shuichi!” They were different, then. “I haven’t exactly made this public. It would just make everyone worry for no reason.”

“N-No reason?!”

“It’s chronic, it’s terminal, and there’s no cure.”

This was a nightmare, right? Like all the others.

No way. This was real. Like Nekomaru said, he’d never take something like a prank this far. He was a good man. He helped everyone around him try to be better, he stood up for what he believed in with fiery intensity. He was, in some ways, just like Kaito. Everything Shuichi failed to be as a man.

And so, because the world apparently really was _that_ messed up, he was dying?!

“There’s only ways to manage the condition. So that’s what I’ve been doing all my life. Believe it not, becoming the big, strong man you see before you was part of that! Once I, well. Once I found the will to live, I went all the way! Hahaha! Impressive, huh?!”

Everything about Nekomaru, down to his very body, was indeed loud and boisterous. In fact, Shuichi could see the problem. Trying to give Nekomaru Nidai a sub-standard, or even just a normal heart, was like trying to run Japan off a single power plant. Wouldn’t becoming bigger and stronger only make that worse? Or was there something else to the condition either way?

Then again, Shuichi was no doctor. They had none of those on this island, but they had somebody.

Much as Shuichi wished things were different between them.

“Does Mikan know about this?”

Nekomaru nodded. “Yeah. She, and that hospital, can’t really do all that much by now. She gave me some medicine to take each day, but it’s a real pain. So I’ve just kinda stopped bothering!”

Shuichi could only gawk in astonishment. What was all that stuff about his will to live?! “That’s… Nekomaru! Please. Why would you just stop something like that?”

“It’s not like I chose to abandon my treatment plan, it’s just… it’s only going to do so much. Especially this late in the game, I’m already in overtime. You know?” Nekomaru rubbed the back of his head, just like Kaito did. “I may as well spend the time I’ve got doing what I love, rather than worrying about all that shit. And dealing with all the side-effects. I’ll give you an example, Shuichi. Do you love shitting out like your own body weight every single day? I love a good shit, but not that much. It got old fast.”

Too much information, as usual for Nekomaru.

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Shuichi could laugh.

He shook his head. “Please. We’re friends, right? Please just take the dang pills every day. Even if it’s only a little bit of help, even with those side effects. I’m sure it’s not pleasant, but this is your only life here!”

“Tch. Is my ‘athlete’ doting over me?!” Nekomaru could only scoff at the absurdity. “Really, what have I been reduced to? I guess I could become more diligent about it, but I want something in return.”

“What?”

**“Sleep, fool!”**

“T-That’s…”

“Don’t bother, it’s not any different. You’ve got a problem, and you’ve got to face it, head-on.”

Ah, so that was Nekomaru’s game. Even now, even when the subject was a crippling heart condition that threatened his life, the Ultimate Team Manager’s only goal was to push Shuichi to be more healthy.

Even though Shuichi’s heart was working fine.

Nekomaru’s was on the verge of some kind of failure, yet he could do this.

Such was the existence known as the Ultimate Team Manager.

Shuichi gave a forlorn smile. “There are some things that we deem so essential to our lives that we wouldn’t want to carry on if we lost them. I forgot. You’re that kind of guy.”

“Oh, and my second condition! **For fuck’s sake, just ask her out already!”**

“W-What?! I mean, uh. W-Who are you talking about, Nekomaru? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Give me a fucking break, you bastard. Don’t lie to a dying man, at least have that much mercy on me! No, forget me, think about Kaede for a second! How long are you going to string her out for?”

Kaede was waiting? For that?

“Gods almighty, you haven’t even realized it? You’re a man, right?! I mean, you are actually a guy? Correct?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

‘Then if you like a pretty girl, and she clearly likes you, and you want to be together, and our fucking class objective is to get into relationships, then… **ASK HER OUT, MORON!”**

“I don’t know if I would be so bold as to-”

“Just do it.” Nekomaru cut off his objections with just a single, forceful command. Lightning crackled from his eyes, an extension of his incredible, overflowing willpower. “I’m a pretty tolerant man, but seeing you waste Kaede’s precious time is something I don’t intend to forgive. Promise me that you won’t dither and put this shit off. The past is dead. The future’s always going to be uncertain, you might not even be around! The present is the only time where you can act! So do it! Promise me these things, and I’ll take the damn shitty meds.”

“My insomnia isn’t the kind of thing I can just will away,” Shuichi sighed. “Seriously. If I could, I’d…”

“I know that! Fortunately, I’m pretty well-connected. Or rather, Mikan knew that if she gave this to me, it could get to you.”

Nekomaru produced another bottle.

Sleeping pills.

“Consider it whatever you like, but this is an olive branch from Mikan. Regardless of her issues, and the religion shit, and the whole deal, she’s still the Ultimate Nurse. You can take that to the bank. It’s just like what you were saying. Things so central to your nature, it’s like breathing.”

Shuichi hesitated before taking the bottle of pills.

Those white little capsules could have held anything.

Nekomaru was right, though. Whatever else Mikan was capable of, whatever else she could be driven to, helping people was axiomatic for her.

Plus, he could always subject one of the pills to a chemical analysis in the lab, if he really needed to verify it was okay. There was simply no reason to decline.

“This won’t stop the nightmares,” Nekomaru warned him. “It’ll just keep you from waking up in a panic like you’ve told me you were doing. You’ll get the damn REM sleep you need to get better. It won’t be fun. But it’s what’s needed. It’s what you’ve gotta do. **NEVER LOOK AWAY FROM THE TRUTH!** Even when reality itself seems like a nightmare, and everything goes south.

You can’t look away, you can’t hesitate, and you can’t run away from reality. You’ve gotta face it, and look it square in the eye. That’s what it means to be an Ultimate Detective, right? I’m not telling you to do that because the group needs you, although it does.

I’m saying it because you need to hear it most of all.”

Shuichi sighed. “I’m not the kind of strong person who can just change on a dime. Even now…” Even then, Shuichi pulled his hat low over his face. “I’ll try. I’ll do… as much as I can. I won’t keep wasting time, or making her wait, or looking away. Fine, I promise.”

Shuichi wasn’t going to turn his whole life around in one day, or even one night of good sleep.

Hell of a start, though.

“Thank you, Nekomaru.”

 **“Hahaha!** Little do you realize, helping others to succeed is just something fundamental to me, too. You could hardly even call it noble when a toaster toasts toast! It’s just that… I learned for a team manager, your team’s victories are your victories. It’s more than that, though. As a manager, you share their triumphs, and their defeats, too. So the better you do, the better I do! And I’m a real damn competitive asshole, Shuichi! As you may have noticed. Now come on, your real training begins now.”

“I thought you were kidding about that!”

“It’s just a few hundred measly push-ups! Compared to that workout session you guys have in the evening, this is just like your very long warm-up!”

This was a hundred times more intense than that!

“Come on! Put your back into it, you bastaaaaard! One! Two! Three!”

No matter what sort of person Shuichi really was, and regardless of the very low opinion he held of himself, he didn’t want to let anyone else down.

_Nekomaru, if that’s the wish you want to leave for me… I’ll accept it, with all the meager strength I can muster._

* * *

 

Kaede knew the routine by now.

“On the table, right?”

Gundham Tanaka’s forcefield prevented her from just handing the package of sunflower seeds directly to the Ultimate Animal Breeder.

Of course, right?

Direct contact with such a powerful Supreme Overlord could destroy, like, the universe.

_Granted, that’s a worst-case scenario. The effects could, in fact, be localized to merely our own galaxy._

“That will not be necessary, Akamatsu. You may be permitted to give it directly today. Here.” Gundham extended a heavily-bandaged hand. That had to be the one he regularly ‘sacrificed’ to sate the ‘world-destroying’ anger of his ‘beasts’. “Render unto Caesar that which is his.”

What an honor.

At least it meant they had gotten a little closer over the past week. Kaede smiled as she handed over the seeds. “I hope the Four Dark Devas enjoy. For such a simple prize, it took me forever to actually get it from that dang machine.”

“Perhaps the spirits of fortune are displeased with you, hmm?”

Kaede found that hard to deny. “Anyway, where should we hang out today? Now that people are starting to go out more, we might bump into somebody.” Anyone who saw the two of them talking together would never think they’d grow the bonds of friendship. Gundham looked like some kind of ninja, or an anime character, or, more accurately, a chuuni boy living on the Edge. Kaede dealt in sweater vests, pastel colors, and friendly smiles.

Yet they were both elected to serve everyone on the island, so they had to at least get along. They’d already seen what happened when the new government was wracked by disunity.

“True. We should chart a course as to minimize that risk. A keen insight, for a human.”

Just like that, they were off.

At least, until Kaede heard something, rustling around behind them. Her golden ears were still as sharp as ever. She had no choice but to turn and face the person stalking them from the forest around the paved path.

Only to get one heck of a surprise.

“... Sonia, are you _following_ us?”

The crown princess of the Novoselic Kingdom, an actual foreign leader, emerged from the treeline in one of those… plant covered camo suit things. Like what snipers wore on missions, so they could blend in. Whatever they were called, it might have been really effective for soldiers, but on Sonia Nevermind, it looked fucking absurd.

Her blonde hair was done immaculately, bow and all. But instead of flowing free, it was tied back in a ponytail. Her flawless skin still didn’t have a single blemish, except for the parts where it was covered in leaves.

It was such a mishmash of styles.

Not like Kaede could do better. Why do you think she only really had one type of outfit?

“I should have anticipated the full range of your powers, Kaede. Yes, you have ‘got me’. I am following you.”

“Can I... ask why?”

“To ensure that you do not steal him from above my very nose, of course.”

Sonia’s clear blue-eyed gaze hardened into a regal glare. Kaede felt the pressure, like the Ultimate Princess had just intensified her personality to the maximum setting. She focused all that power on Kaede, the Piano Freak, and it was intimidating.

“What?”

“Please. Do not try to deny it. I know that you spend each day with Gundham, growing closer. Giving him gifts that are approved on the online walkthrough. In order to raise the events and clear the flags. I am not an uncultured fool!”

Kaede looked to Gundham, who was having no part of this. His arms were held up in a defensive ward.

“Sonia, that’s like something out of a dating sim. This is real life, not some game.”

“Still, I have consumed more than my fair share of media from your wonderful nation! Therefore, I am well versed in the matters of Japanese romance, whether it is fictional or real.”

That way of thinking was…

“I hate to be rude here. But just because you’ve watched dramas and anime, that’s not the same as, like, knowing our culture! Or at least the part of it that doesn’t involve fictional characters. We’re not fiction, Sonia! We’re not just some culture to enjoy as wacky entertainment and that’s it.”

“I know. If we were in one of those charming visual novels, then I wouldn't have had to take such indirect measures. ‘I’ll never let you take him from me, even if I have to…’ And then I would take out the knife, and bam! Ahaha, good fun, jolly good.”

Sonia scared Kaede.

She just pretended to laugh along, though. “Ahaha. Yeah. That sure would be wacky and fun, to try and kill me over literally talking with your boyfriend. Look, Sonia. We’re like co-workers. We’re gonna need to work together, to guide the future of the Ultimates. That’s why we’re hanging out. Gundham, come on. Tell her nothing’s going on.”

“I can verify this much,” Gundham nodded. “My dark princess, please have no further worries. Although it may seem impossible for one such as me to become… friends with a lowly human whose magical essence is a mere three, it has in fact come to pass. As has been foretold.”

Did he ever fail to use a full paragraph when a sentence would do?

And why was it foretold, if he didn’t think it would happen at all?

“Of course you would say that!” Sonia clutched her admittedly pretty bangin’ chest. In fact, she had a pearl necklace in her hands. She was literally clutching pearls. “Was that childhood promise beneath the sakura blossom tree all for naught?!”

“You grew up literally on opposite sides of the planet!” Kaede exploded, unable to contain her common sense long enough to deal with these two.

Deep breaths, Kaede. Deep breaths. If we ever get off this island, insulting a head of state is probably not your smartest move.

These two middle-school-syndrome kids are absolutely perfect for each other!

“Sonia. I’m not opposed to having some fun or messing around. Whatever passes the time when we’ve got so much of it, right? But I just want to make this super crystal clear. Gundham? So. So. So very much, not my type. Like whoa.”

“I am standing right here,” Gundham pointed out, visibly wounded.

“Well you wouldn’t know it!” Kaede glared at him, hands on her hips. “Your favorite pastime has to be pretending you don’t exist when there’s an argument going on.”

“... So, you are saying that Gundham is not your type of male.”

“Correct.”

There we go, finally-

“So, an introverted boy. Who dresses mostly in black colors, and is reclusive to the point of social anxiety. A boy who covers that up by projecting a capable outer persona, even though there remain clear cracks in the armor. Revealing the sensitive, kind soul beneath in need of protection and care from a strong girlfriend. Such a boy is not your type, hmm?”

“T-That!” Gundham was even more bothered by the comparison than Kaede was. But he was powerless against his ‘dark princess’ when she was like this.

Kaede herself needed a moment to gather her wits. “That is not. That’s not actually… okay, look. You’re just messing around, you can’t really compare… Gundham to Shuichi. I mean, that’s…” She glanced over at Gundham. “Not fair to either of them. Sonia, let’s just stop this, please.”

“Oh, very well.”

“Wait, just like that?!”

“I mean, I was merely ‘pulling your leg’, as they say among the common folk,” Sonia grinned, striking her Rosie the Riveter pose in triumph. “And it was a complete success! I really had you going, didn’t I?”

It was clear that Sonia’s words struck home with Gundham, joke or not, long after they said their goodbyes.

“While she may have been exaggerating, there is little doubt that, to ordinary humans, I may appear… reclusive.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that kinda thing,” Kaede sighed. “Sonia even said she was just kidding-”

‘However! Listen well, Akamatsu. I am not isolated from the world of humans because of your kind. It is for your own protection!”

“Right, sure. You’re way too powerful for us to handle.” Kaede realized they were headed for the Hospital. “Huh. Is this where we’re going?”

“It was my choice- Ahem. Indeed. For if you wish to understand even a fragment of my dark powers, then you must understand… my story. Part of it is wrapped up in this place. Or rather, a place like this, back in your homeland.”

Kaede frowned. “Have you been in the hospital in the past? I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Mhm. This place… it reminds me. Buried memories of a darker time, when beasts roamed the land unchecked. The demonic power sealed up within me attempted to escape, through the mark you see over my right eye. This is the place that it was sealed in my greatest battle. I nearly lost this evil eye, but persevered where others would fall. Such is the fate of one blessed by the spirits.”

Kaede considered her options.

Pressing Gundham to be more clear wasn’t going to help. If that worked, he’d be talking normally by now. Trying to get more information might backfire, too. While she was curious about this incident he referred to, the best she was going to get was probably vague comments.

It was enough to paint a certain kind of picture.

Maybe there was another way to try and break through that lair of calculated coldness.

“Well, I’m glad you made it through that in one piece.” Kaede glanced down at her own hands. “It’s really easy to underestimate our own health, huh? Or take it for granted. It’s one of those things you never think about, until you’ve… gotta. Like I did, when I was a kid.”

“Hm? You also have memories bound up in a place like this?”

“That’s right,” Kaede nodded. “It wasn’t quite as severe, but I got into a little car accident when I was like ten. Thankfully, nobody in either car died, but dad got banged up to protect me… and even so, my hands got hurt. Not badly, but you can still see little tiny scars around the knuckles, to this day. See?” She held out her hands, so that Gundham’s eyes, one with a dramatic contact and one without, could examine closely.

“You too are marked,” He said. “... It is possible I underestimated your magical essence cap. My apologies.”

“It’s fine,” Kaede sighed. “It’s just… even back then, I was on a track to becoming the person I am today. The Ultimate Pianist. But if I lost the use of my hands, or even just fine motor control, then that would have all been over. Just like that, my life would have been so much different.”

“This, too, much be the will of causality,” Gundham nodded. “A sign. If those skilled hands stopped obeying your commands, Akamatsu, what value would you hold as an Ultimate? What else could you do in this world to stand out from the pack?”

Kaede didn’t hesitate on that one. “None. Nothing. I’d have nothing.”

Others would argue with her, or tell her she had a lot of good qualities. That she shouldn’t define her whole life by this one thing. Wasn’t that how it worked, though?

It was refreshing that Gundham didn’t bother.

“Then take care of those hands. You were given talent above other humans. A potential. A spark of true brilliance. Even if that doesn’t seem impressive to you, others would kill for the chance to be in your shoes. Never forget that, and never forget your pride as an Ultimate, Akamatsu. If nothing else, I won’t let you go without playing some of those bewitching magical melodies for my amusement. Be warned, for I do not tolerate anything but a masterwork performance!”

Kaede grinned. “Thanks. Seriously. I think I needed to hear something like that. And don’t worry. If I ever get a grand piano, I’ll knock your socks off. Well, as much as a piano can. It’s an experience like none other.” She snapped. “I’ve got it! Bach.”

“... Bach?”

“I’ll play you Toccata and Fugue, in D Minor!”

“Tch. Is that jumble of words supposed to mean something to one as grand as I?”

“... You really don’t know?”

“As I said, for one with a grand perspective on the universe, to expect me to know every trivia of humanity is foolhardy!” He blushed, and pulled up his scarf, looking away. Especially against girls, he really couldn’t hold his own at all, if pressed even a tiny bit, huh?

It was, admittedly, cute.

“Well, you’d know the actual melody if you heard it,” Kaede said. “Basically everyone has. Not a whole lot of people anymore know where it’s actually from, though. I’ll have to pick out some other suitably dark themes, to really bring out your, uh, evil powers.”

“Hmm. Evil powers.” Gundham nodded, eyes closed. “Very well. Consider me slightly intrigued. However! Considering how long Usami has been absent for, you should be prepared to wait even longer if needed. Your Ultimate Lab may not even be one of the next ones that have been established by those infernal machines.”

“Yeah, I know. But I can always stay cheerful. Maybe a great big piano really is waiting for me, just across the water.” Kaede gave a fistpump. “If things are gonna happen how they happen, the last we can do is to keep some hope alive.”

“It’s been a long time since I had anything like hope kindled within me. Not since…” Gundham glanced back up at the towering medical facility, a brilliant spire reaching into the sky as far as humans were concerned. Its scale really reminded Kaede of all those rants about how he was a ‘greater being’. Now, he didn’t look any bigger against that pristine building than she did. “... Since the great battle.”

Bit dramatic, but that was him.

“Allow me to give you one warning though, Akamatsu. No matter how much you or Enoshima may try to influence me, I will not be a mere puppet. My vote is my own, and I am not a pawn in your games!”

Pawn?

Wait, Junko approached him, too?

“Well, I can’t speak for Junko. I never have any idea what’s up with her, really. But as far as it goes for me, I just want you to vote what you really think is the right answer.”

“Even if it leads to your defeat?”

“Well, I mean. It’s not like if I’m defeated on some battlefield and die. Politics is a whole different beast! I can just get right back up and keep trying.”

“Mwahahaha, too true. In war, you can only die once. But in politics, you can die over, and over, and over! I will look forward to seeing how you struggle in the future, Akamatsu.”

That meant Kaede and Gundham had finally established a real sense of understanding. Right?

At least, Kaede felt like she’d gotten a glimpse past that absurd facade, to the person underneath.

_Even though he’s a major edgelord, I have to admit, I think we could work together. I shouldn’t be so quick to get mad at him, even if he has a different perspective than me on the issues. He might even be the thing we need to keep Junko and me honest._

_So the island’s fate could, in a pinch, rest on the sound judgement and calm, rational mind of Gundham Tanaka._

_Great._

 

* * *

 

The moon and the stars were particularly bright over Tranquility Beach.

In spite of gathering clouds in the night sky, they shone down peacefully. Light glinted off the fused, blasted glass marring an otherwise idyllic landscape. The rest of the peaceful white sands had scattered parasols and towels.

One of which held a silly, lovestruck girl in repose, stargazing nervously as she waited.

It was all arranged.

She asked Shuichi to come a little bit early. Kaito might be coming, but only later. He was too busy sneaking food to “Maki Roll” and chatting her up.

He thought he was getting away with it, but he also wasn’t very careful. Good job not checking for Kyouko’s cameras, buddy. Well, as much as Kaede wanted to have words with their brave Captain over this, it worked to her advantage tonight.

For their regular workout, it was just Kaede Akamatsu, and Shuichi Saihara.

With nature’s beauty all around them, as the deep blue sea stretched out to the horizon.

_You said you had something to ask me, Shuichi. You won’t get a more perfect opportunity than tonight, so..._

“H-Hey there, Kaede.”

He was right on time.

Punctual as ever.

Nervous as ever.

Kaede was shaking too, so it was understandable. Without any words, the two of them perfectly understood the situation they were in. They’d known it for weeks. Heck, it was actually their mission, in a sense, to get along at that level. Kaede spared another glance towards the Scar, before her purple eyes flitted back to Shuichi. He couldn’t meet her gaze, and he pulled his hat down.

“So, Kaito’s not here yet,” He remarked.

“Sure isn’t,” Kaede replied. “Gosh, and he’s always the one riding my butt about being like, four minutes late.” Technically, their meeting wasn’t supposed to start for another half hour, but Kaede was nervous, okay?! She was barely holding it together and bringing forth actual human words. “Would you just wanna like, hang out for a while? Until he decides to show up?”

“Th-that sounds good.”

Kaede tried to will Shuichi to spit out what was so clearly on his mind, as they sat on their beach towels and watched the stars.

She didn’t have mind powers like Sayaka, though.

Kaede could have said something. However, that wasn’t the way tonight had to go. They were surrounded by such absurd circumstances and weird people. It felt like she was standing on quicksand. In this, at least, maybe they could just be normal, ordinary people. This wasn’t about their talent, or some new crisis, or an investigation.

This was just a boy and a girl.

And the boy was supposed to ask the girl, damnit!

Please?

_Come on. Make me feel like I’m, I dunno, super desirable or something. Touko would know what to say. Shame she kiiinda hates me, and may also be crazy._

Ah, Touko. Just another burden that piled up on Shuichi, that he tried to handle all on his own. After all the blue-haired detective boy had been through, it was amazing he could smile. Much less take the initiative. He’d been at risk of just lapsing back into how he used to be in the days following his breakup with the Black Hats.

Kaede could tell it was eating him up inside. Maybe it was even the source of the nightmares. He should be together with his friends, not apart.

So then, this. Just piling more expectations on.

He knew what was supposed to happen here. So did she.

_Aw, forget it. It’s now, or never!_

“Shuichi.”

“Hm?”

Kaede’s face burned. Her mostly-innocent maiden’s heart was racing. She couldn’t stop her skilled fingers from dancing over her own arms, like she was composing a song on the spot. Set to the tempo of her beating heart.

“I, um.”

_Come on, Kaede! Just do it! It’s okay if you’re the one who has to ask. Maybe all that stuff about the man taking action is overrated. Maybe since you’re the big strong leader here, you should just-_

“Shuichi, I-”

“Kaede, would you go out with me?”

Welp.

Casualties; one Ultimate Pianist, who fell down onto her towel and actually wiggled around, covering her face. Both of them felt it, though. There was no way that Shuichi didn’t feel that same incredible release of pressure too. Not entirely, but a bit. A pressure valve let off some of the rising steam. There was still pressure, though.

She still had to answer.

What could she possibly say? She hadn’t planned that far ahead-

“Yes!”

Wow, that was it?

Was that seriously all it took?

What, exactly, did they say now?

Was Shuichi supposed to come over and pin Kaede to her beach towel with a searing kiss? That certainly wasn’t going to happen. As much as he’d changed these past three weeks from the nervous boy she met in those mysterious ruins, Shuichi was Shuichi.

And he was fine just the way he was, damnit.

Because he was strong where it counted. He had the strength and confidence she tried to show outwardly.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Kaede admitted, turning her head over to the side and pulling back her golden blonde hair so she could look over at him. He was also on his back, looking upwards, beet red.

“Same here. I mean, if you feel the same way I do, and we’re here, then it only makes… sense, right?”

Kaede grinned. “Yep. I feel silly for not doing this sooner.”

They sat there together, in what Kaede could only call a comfortable silence. It wasn’t like them being in a relationship changed either of them instantly, or caused some magical new thing to happen. It made Kaede’s heart swell with pride that Shuichi really did feel the same way about her, and was willing to go out on a limb and say it.

She felt a rush of indescribable things, but nothing she could put into words.

So, she didn’t.

She just relaxed with him.

They’d already hung out across the island, at all sorts of places. A lot of those expeditions could now, especially in hindsight, be called ‘dates’. Many people, like nosy Hina, did.

Now, though, Kaede and Shuichi could figure out some real dates to go on together.

The world hadn’t changed, but there were a lot of new possibilities.

Kaede would have been happy as a clam, to just stay on that beach forever.

Well, eventually, since they were in a relationship, various things would need to happen, of course. That was only natural. This was enough for now, for tonight.

A beautiful night.

In fact, the very stars seemed brighter, like they twinkled with more charming whimsy. The world might not have shifted around this, but Kaede’s perspective did.

Things were so much more clear.

It was disappointing to be pulled out of her reverie. Somebody approached them and she spotted them out of the corner of her eye. When she sat up, though, it wasn’t the blaring purple of Kaito’s hair and jacket.

Instead, it was the pair of guys she’d woken up with in that lecture hall, the very first day. Brown spiky hair, with the bit that stood up just like hers, the almighty ahoge. Together, the four of them gathered here had done a lot to push the whole group forward, and unite them all.

“Makoto? Hajime? What brings you guys out here at this hour?”

Makoto waved. “Mind if we join your little exercise club?”

It was just about time for that, huh. As predicted, Kaito had yet to arrive.

“Not at all. Shuichi?”

“I don’t see any reason to refuse,” Shuichi nodded. “The more the merrier. Just pull up a beach towel. Don’t sit on the sand. I tried that once.”

Kaede burst out into giggles at the memory.

Hajime shrugged, looking out on the calm, nearly even waves of the ocean. “What’s up with you two? You look like you’ve been drinking.”

Kaede grinned. “Not quite. We just have some really good news. Shuichi, you wanna tell them?”

“Well, um. You know. Maybe it would be better if you told them.”

Makoto took a spot behind Hajime, also between the two of them. He appropriated a beach towel in the same dull green as his jacket, and sprawled out on it, looking between Kaede and Shuichi curiously.

She rolled her eyes. “Fiine. We did it, guys. Like, for real. We’re going out now. Dating. Boyfriend, and girlfriend, respectively. We just agreed to it, so as of tonight, it’s for real..”

Makoto’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s awesome, you guys! Congratulations!” He reached out to pat Shuichi on the back, albeit with a lot less vigor than Kaito usually used.

Hajime nodded in approval. “Finally. What took you so long?”

“Shuichi just asked me out,” Kaede explained, “Straight up. And I said yes! So it’s official. It’s just that simple, right? We aren’t missing any weird hidden step?”

Makoto nodded. “Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it. Everyone involved just has to Consent, and bam... Like how Kyouko did, yesterday.”

Now there was a bigger revelation to Hajime.

Kaede wouldn’t exactly consider herself a gossip, quite. She did find the subject occasionally interesting. When it was other peoples’ personal lives, at least. Plus, she was just looking out for her friends, that’s all. She definitely hadn’t had whole debates with some of the other girls over whether Kyouko was even capable of returning those kinds of feelings

“I’d have given a lot of chips to be there for that,” Kaede admitted, grinning ear-to-ear.

“I mean, she didn’t, like, tearfully proclaim her love, or anything,” Makoto said, grinning nervously. “But she said ‘okay, let’s give it a try’. Real romantic, right? I mean, for Kyouko, that’s seriously like on par with, I dunno, uh. Romantic stuff.”

Now this was officially a thing, and Kaede had to know more before they dropped this subject. “How about you, Hajime?” She inquired, grinning deviously. “You guys aren’t making it a secret, yourselves. You and Nagito especially. Like, whoa, boy.”

Hajime only blushed a little, and affected a stern face. “We’re not really that big into labels. We’re just letting things happen as they happen. But there’s definitely something there. With him, and with Chiaki. She’s… I mean, it’s like she lived her whole life without ever actually interacting with another human being before she came to Gopher Island. There’s a lot of things about life she wants to explore, and this is just one of them, that’s all.”

_It’s not like I made this for you, baka, I just made too much lunch..._

“I’m a little worried,” Kaede pondered. “Shuichi, will you want another girlfriend or two? A harem of admirers? Or maybe a boyfriend?~ Ooh, we could totally invite Kaito when he comes over, and then-”

“T-There’s no way I’d look at Kaito like that,” Shuichi denied. Very quickly. “Kaede, please don’t be p=preposterous.”

“Don’t be too scared, Kaede. It’s not the kind of life choices most people make,” Hajime sighed. “And with good reason. I couldn’t even figure out how to handle being in a relationship with one person, even if you put a gun to my head. Now, with two? I mean, how the hell are we gonna do this?”

Makoto shrugged. “I wish I knew. The important thing about all this love in the air is that it means people aren’t expecting some attack any day, anymore. That things are starting to settle a little. Heck, we’re starting to settle in all the meanings of the word. I mean, if we’re gonna be here a long time, there’s no point acting like we’re back in Japan, or things are normal.”

Since Kaede was a little more together by that point, she easily heard the approach of footsteps down the path towards the beach. She was ready when Kaito finally showed up, a full hour after the meeting time.

“Never gonna let you live this one down,” Kaede told him, with the widest grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just… haven’t been feeling well today. Maybe I’m comin’ down with something?”

Yeah, right. Nice excuse.

He did look pale, but that was just from having to give such a transparent excuse.

Another time, when Kaede wasn’t basking in her well-earned victory, she was going to have those words with Kaito about the situation.

Shuichi said, “If so, you’d be the first person on the island to get sick. We’re lucky it didn’t happen in the first two weeks, before the Hospital. Just try to take care of yourself.”

“Y-Yeah, no worries. I’m still rarin’ to go! And it looks like we’ve got a new set of volunteers over here.”

“I wasn’t expecting to do a lot of exercise,” Hajime admitted. “That’s one reason we swung by, Also, where’s your buddy, Kaito?”

‘I’m the Captain,” The Ultimate Astronaut replied, grinding his teeth together. “Everything I do is important business.”

Right, because the traitors would never want to attack somebody important who tended to wander around alone. Well, for all Kaede knew, Maki was one of the traitors, and she was just waiting for the right time.

Dangit. They couldn’t even have one night free of it. Maybe it was time to broach this subject, after all. “What really kept you, Kaito? Maybe taking food to somebody?”

Kaito froze up. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Beating around the bush was pointless. “We’ve literally got you on camera visiting with Maki.”

“... Fuck.”

“I’m not mad,” Kaede assured him. “I just want you to explain what’s going on. I mean, let’s just start with the biggest issue. That lab is the only space on the island we know about, but can’t yet enter. If there was a place where items could just ‘go missing’ because we can’t search it…”

‘I made sure that’s not possible,” Kaito replied.

“How?” Makoto asked, quite reasonably.

“I asked Maki Roll about it, and I made her swear to me that none of the stuff from the military base was in there before I agreed to bring her some food each day.”

Hajime’s frozen, awkward smile said everything he needed to, but he also couldn’t let that pass without comment. “So, the honor system. We’re using the honor system for a woman who broke Kiibo’s fingers without a second thought.”

“That… I know she regrets what happened, that’s part of why she’s got such a siege mentality. Doubling down, getting defensive.” Kaito sighed. “I can get through to her! I just need more time.”

Arguing with Kaito was pointless, and he was the Captain, so hey. All they could do was hope he had the right idea. Even if they tried to stop him from his visits, it wouldn’t do a dang bit of good anyway.

Kaito was distant and quiet for the rest of the meeting, unlike the warm vibes given off by the other guys.

Kaede was in too good of a mood to really push the issue.

She scarcely even noticed how, once the exercises were over and everyone split up, Kaito stayed behind. That is, until she heard the coughing. Once he was out of sight and normal earshot, he let loose, and didn’t stop.

She could hear him being wracked by coughing all the way back to Hotel 53.

Kaede’s only reaction at the time was a bemused, if slightly concerned, ‘Oh, so he was telling the truth. Huh.’ The significance of that cough, and what it foreshadowed, wouldn’t become obvious for another week.

A week in which storm clouds gathered and took shape on the horizon.

Thirty days after the start of the Ultimates’ communal life, the storm hit.

Slowly building tension would come to a head. Things long buried, secrets jealously guarded, and memories locked away, would all come into the harsh tropical sunlight.

In the end, the sands of this beautiful island would run pink with blood.

The incident was heralded by a sickness unlike any other.

The Despair Disease.


	30. 2-8. The Plague of Memory (Mukuro)

Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, knew something was wrong when her sister tried to stab her.

That was definitely the warning flag.

After a month on this island, Mukuro’s instincts were the only thing that saved her life on that particular drab, cool, overcast morning.

She was halfway through her morning greeting, having unlocked the door to her sister’s cabin without knocking as usual. The usual words died in her mouth as a needle-sharp stainless steel skewer surged forward. It was guided with speed and expert precision.

Right for Mukuro’s left eye, and what was beyond it.

It got within centimeters, before she slipped aside.

Junko liked to go pretty far for a prank. This was on another level, though. Anybody who had reacted with even one second of hesitation would have died.

Tsumugi, a good example of a hapless civilian, was just behind Mukuro, frozen in shock. Because of the spike of sheer adrenaline coursing through the Wolf of Fenrir’s veins, the blue-haired wide cosplayer looked frozen in time. Grey-blue eyes behind glasses widening slowly as her mouth hung open.

They’d been having a nice chat, or what passed for it when Mukuro was one of the participants.

The Ultimate Cosplayer could have easily been the one to open that door. Junko hadn’t waited to see who was there, she stabbed too quickly. That was what proved it.

_Junko’s trying to kill us._

That was impossible.

If Mukuro accepted that impossibility, for the moment, she could function. When her life was threatened, Mukuro knew how to react. It was the only thing she knew. The fact that the threat was coming from her own beloved sister, for whom she would in fact die on a normal day, was for the tiny human side of Mukuro Ikusaba to figure out later.

Mukuro didn’t need this life she had, except to help Junko. Even if it was just Mukuro who died, though, the group would hold Junko accountable. In fact, they would presume that she was a traitor, even if Mukuro knew neither of them were.

The way Junko was acting this morning? The look of insanity in those gorgeous wide icy-blue eyes? A look that Mukuro had only seen before a few times on the battlefield?

She wouldn’t stop at just one. If Mukuro fell here, then the most likely outcome was that Junko would kill every single person on this island. She certainly could, and probably would. She’d be left alone, with the guilt and despair of her crimes. Until Usami came, and used her unnatural powers to punish Junko. Perhaps with the same fate as Monokuma.

_I can’t let any of that happen to you, Junko._

Thus, the disappointing messed-up barely-human sister, who loved Junko more than life, resolved to fight her absolutely in the span of one second.

The only thing that mattered was victory.

Victory was life, and today, life was victory.

Mukuro’s win condition was disarming and detaining her sister without anyone getting hurt.

The issue wasn’t that Junko could match Mukuro’s strength and training. She just couldn’t. They were on completely different levels in all physical regards, and it was the reason even a completely shocking surprise attack didn’t end it. The problem was with Junko’s true talent. The one they’d been concealing from everybody.

Junko had the **Ultimate Analytical Prowess**.

There could be no limits to the nature of her insight, or the speed of her thought processes.

The only vulnerability, that Junko couldn’t account for information she didn’t know, was rarely a problem with such a curious, influential woman. It certainly wouldn’t be factoring in here, since Mukuro was nothing but a known quantity.

Junko knew exactly where to hit Mukuro. To maximize advantage, and make it toughest to defend. Junko always picked the most effective moment, and the most effective way, to attack any enemy.

The only saving grace, the only reason that Mukuro dodged all fatal strikes, and absorbed the glancing blows for minimal damage and slight blood loss, was simple.

Mukuro at her very worst and most vulnerable moments was still so much stronger than her sister.

In this one respect, and no other. As a human being, a student, a sister? Mukuro was dirt compared to Junko. But in this one thing, Mukuro couldn’t lose.

It didn’t matter how often Junko stabbed, how blindingly fast, how terrifyingly random each strike was. Or how she screamed and cackled like she was insane. How she babbled about ‘despair’ and ‘death’ and ‘destroying the new world’. It didn’t matter what she tried. She would never find that one golden moment. The opening to end the fight and skewer Mukuro. In fact, Junko’s attacks were getting less effective. Mukuro adapted to her assault, and was getting closer to catching that skewer safely.

Without a weapon, the fight would already be over.

Junko was strong, but she didn’t have the endurance and conditioning for anything but a sprint. Each attack cost Junko energy, but didn’t hurt Mukuro badly enough. It was just pain and blood, nothing important. It looked quite dramatic, seeing bits of her own pink blood splashing around, but that didn’t matter.

Junko had one chance to defeat Mukuro. Just as Junko couldn’t stop something Junko didn’t know about, Mukuro couldn’t react to a surprise attack as effectively as an enemy in front of her.

Her sister came the closest to her goal with that first strike.

With Junko’s analysis, disarming her of that weapon, and tackling her to the ground, was also going to prove time-consuming. The fact that, of course, Mukuro would only ever be fighting to disable, to disarm, to capture, meant she was at a massive disadvantage. As well as the fact that she was unarmed, using only her gloved hands.

As well as the fact that she had somebody else to protect. “Tsumugi!” Mukuro shouted. “Run, she’s going to-”

_Crash!_

Too slow. The black-haired mercenary could only grasp desperately at the air just too late as Junko made her dynamic exit. She smashed out of her own cabin’s window like a human cannonball. Puffy light pink hair flying through the air in an arc as ribbons came loose and flew off into the running water below.

Broken glass exploded outwards into the resort area, but Junko wasn’t on the ground where she should have been. She was already moving.

When Mukuro turned back around, Junko was at Tsumugi’s throat with a kitchen knife.

“If you move towards us, she dies,” Then, her entire inflection changed. “We will not permit you to ruin our new, despairing plans! Oohoho.” She muttered like a stereotypical mad queen. “Then again, if you too have regained your wonderful memories of our time together, then you won’t care a farthing for the life of such a peasant! Ohoho.”

This routine was the kind of thing she did when they were messing around, or gently bullying Hajime or Makoto. When applied to life-or-death circumstances, it was chilling to the little part of Mukuro that was still allowed to feel fear.

“Junko, why are you doing this?”

Junko rolled her eyes. “I guess it can’t be that easy. Fine. I already predicted you’d be disappointingly slowly to remember, anyhow. Mookie, be a dear and take out your gun.”

The first tiny flecks of rain hit her face, and Tsumugi trembled like a leaf in Junko’s grip. She’d only known pleasure from her touch, but now, she was frozen in wide-eyed terror. “J-J-Junko, why?!”

“Is there an echo in here? C’mon. Come on, Mookie. Do it or the blue bitch dies~”

Junko wasn’t going to give her another warning. A shallow cut she made in Tsumugi’s neck, drawing a thin stream of pink from a non-vital area, made that clear. Tsumugi wailed in pain, and thrashed, but Junko kept her held tight without one moment of weakness.

They were right in the middle of Hotel 1. At this hour, almost everybody had to still be in their cabins. Outside, a girl was screaming her head off until Junko forced her to be silent.

Yet, the soundproofing was nearly perfect. The only vulnerability was directly in front of your door. Whether or not people could hear this, help wasn’t coming in time.

_Especially since I’m the guard this morning._

Mukuro drew her gun, and in the same motion, unloaded the magazine. She let it fall to the cobblestones. It bounced, spun an arc, and slipped into the water with a muted plop.

“Oops.”

The one thing that couldn’t be allowed was Junko, in this state, with a loaded firearm. Mukuro remembered when she let Junko come along to the base and try some guns out.

Her talent for analysis made her a remarkable shot.

Junko's voice went totally flat, free of any emotional inflection at all. She spoke in a grim monotone matching her disappointing sister’s. “That was stupid, even for you. If you do that again, Plain Jane _will_ die. In fact, if you do literally anything else but what I tell you, then she’s gonna die.”

Were mushrooms growing on her head all of a sudden?

“I-Is there a scenario where I don’t die?” Tsumugi wondered, face pale as a ghost. Her eyes weren’t looking at anything in particular, fixed in a deathly stare straight ahead.

“Sure. Do whatever the fuck I say, and you’ll be fine, bitch!” There she went again. “Awww yeah. Now, reload that fucker, and slide it on over! With the safety on, duuh!” Junko grinned unnaturally wide and stuck out her tongue. Before swapping. “For you see, we cannot allow the peasantry to go around armed in our royal presence. Therefore, divest yourself and obey our commands!”

Mukuro’s loaded gun, which she’d been carrying around for weeks, was now her biggest liability. She couldn’t actually use it, because ‘shoot to wound’ was a fiction. Any gunshot wound was potentially life-changing, or life-ending. The merest possibility of ending Junko’s life was intolerable.

If Junko got the pistol, she’d made it clear she wouldn’t extend that same consideration.

This situation really did make absolutely no sense. If Junko wanted her to pull out that gun, point it at her own temple, and squeeze the trigger, then Mukuro would have done it without a whisper of protest. Absent moral and social considerations, she would have killed _anyone_ , _anywhere_ , _at any time_ , if it was Junko’s wish. She invested that much into Junko precisely because Mukuro knew she would never ask it of her unless it was the right call.

Until today, when the world stopped making sense.

_Tsumugi, I’m sorry. I have to weigh the lives of everyone on this island, including Makoto… against yours._

“No.”

“Sigh. I knew that was coming, too. You may think you’re being all noble and heroic, Mookie, but you’re just a total, disappointing, painfully boring basic bitch. Ah well. Sorry, Smoog.”

As it turned out, Junko didn’t have time to do anything thanks to her unnecessary evil monologue. The two of them were consumed in a brilliant flash of blue light. Mukuro chose to blink rather than look away. When she opened her eyes, Tsumugi was still standing. Junko, however, had fallen over.

As a consequence of the fact that she was now wearing a full-body straightjacket.

Everyone stared at each other.

The rain intensified. None of the three girls were dressed for the weather, as things had been tropical, sunny, and pleasantly warm until very recently. Tsumugi could be seen shivering already, trying to keep from soaking through her white undershirt.

Mukuro, still surging with adrenaline, didn’t let out a sigh of relief. She just looked over Junko to assess whether she was neutralized. Her sister was struggling, ineffectively, against the thick tan canvas material. She wasn’t strong or nimble enough to get out without help. The woman who nearly killed her flopped around like a fish brought up to land, groaning in frustration.

_It’s over._

Mukuro became human again. To whatever degree she ever was. “I’m amazed you didn’t take her into your calculations, Junko.”

“I was in a hurry, okay,” Junko pouted.

Was that really the only reason she suddenly tripped up, right at the end?

“So, uh. Great joke, girls! What a silly prank I pulled. You can let me out now. Right? Moogs, please?”

Tsumugi stared down at her lover with an uncharacteristically harsh expression. She reached up to check the severity of the cuts on her neck. Fortunately, nothing was pierced or she’d already be dead, although there was shallow bleeding. Her fingers came back pink, until raindrops washed it away onto the cobblestone. She handled that whole situation better than expected. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that, Junko.”

In the end, it wasn’t the Ultimate Soldier who stopped Junko. Just her own miscalculation. As well as Tsumugi’s quick thinking. Changing Junko into a cosplay that just so happened to feature a character in full-body restraint? Very strong work, on half a second’s notice. It also added a short-haired green wig, although that fell over immediately in her squirming pea-in-a-pod struggle on the ground.

Junko refused to explain herself, and kept trying to poorly act like she was okay. Trying to appeal to love, sisterly and romantic. Right after trying to stab her sister in the face, and coming within millimeters of slashing Tsumugi’s throat and letting her drown in her own blood.

For the first time in her long years of service in Fenrir, since the very first battle she’d ever been in as a child, Mukuro felt like she was going to be sick. She collapsed to her knees. She landed on the walkway beside her struggling, psychotic bundle of a sister.

She never even felt the rain as it kept getting more intense until it was a proper storm.

“... Tsumugi, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. We’ll do this later.” Tsumugi returned with some gauze over her neck, even though thankfully, the bleeding was already tapering off to nothing. After which, she patched up Mukuro, hands sure and steady as they’d be with a sewing needle. “What’s with all her crying and sweating, though?”

Huh.

Mukuro hadn’t taken note of it in the rush of battle. Now, with the first drops of rain in a month coming down from the sky, it was harder to tell. But Junko’s gorgeous blue eyes, now covered in gaudy red contact lenses, were indeed watery. And more moisture came over her than from the rain, disturbing layers of fashionable makeup.

“Oh, that. I just can’t believe that my own dear sister, and my beloved property, would team up to betray me like this. All I wanted to do was inflict upon you the greatest of despair! Is that so wrong?”

“Despair, huh.” Tsumugi glared. “Well, don’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job so far. I really thought we had something.”

“Tsumugi, can you give her a gag, too?” Mukuro asked. “I think Junko needs to be quiet until we get this sorted out.”

_Sorry, Junko. It’s better if everyone doesn’t hear that you’ve gone completely insane._

“I’d have to change the rest of her outfit,” Tsumugi shrugged. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing deal with me. That’s just the strength of my conviction in cosplay. Not all that fake stuff people are doing nowadays!” That was fine, except for the part where she clearly displayed the ability to violate the laws of physics. Or the part where she was letting her hobby get in the way of this life or death situation.

Then again, her hobby is the only thing that resolved this peacefully.

Oh well. Mukuro had a good enough solution, anyhow. She had enough gauze, and enough experience, to make a gag and secure her sister’s foul mouth. “Forgive me.”

 _“Mmph!”_ That didn’t sound like the noise of a forgiving Junko, at all.

Mukuro reloaded her pistol, raised it up to the cloudy, murky grey sky, and angled towards the ocean. She squeezed off a pair of shots. Deafening reports echoed throughout the open-air hotel, and would no doubt drift across the island to the other hotels, too.

That would serve as signal enough.

Mukuro hit the safety, and returned the gun to her shoulder holster. By that time, people were pouring out of the cabins to investigate.

Makoto ran out first. In a soaking white t-shirt instead of his usual hoodie. His messy brown hair drooped under the rain as it got going, except for that antenna thing in the middle, which stood firm in any weather. In fact, he was literally just in that t-shirt, and some socks, and that was, uh, it.

Luckily, it was a big shirt, or he was just small and cute.

Mukuro’s cheeks flared up warm and red. She had to look away.

“I didn’t hear anything! That was so quiet. Mukuro. Oh hey, Tsumugi, you’re looking great. I’m not worried about you at all. Or about why Junko is in a straitjacket.”

_Huh?_

Makoto turned the brightness on his Hope Pad to maximum, blaring it like a flashlight to pierce through the inky, ominous predawn darkness.

_It’s okay, Makoto. I’m confused too._

The group piled out. Some didn’t emerge from their cabins, though. While some of those who did were acting strangely. Even more than usual.

Mukuro’s own Hope Pad danced on her lap with panicked messages to and from Security, and requests for assistance at both of the other hotels. This made sense of some of those very strange behaviors.

This was no isolated incident. People all over were going crazy.

Prime among those obviously affected was a heavily sweating, visibly overheated Kiyotaka. His face turned a shade of noble purple. Even more unsettlingly, his hair had turned snow white somehow. His intense red eyes crackled with energy. “What the fudge is going on out here?! Were you letting off more of those fireworks?! You know that’s against the rules!”

Mondo, looking hale and hearty as ever, looked over at him in disgust. “Fudge? Dude, come on. I know you’re not into cussing, but for fuck’s sake, Bro, don’t do it half-assed. Either just say the word, or don’t.”

Taka rounded on his ‘Bro’, fist clenched. “Who the heck are you to criticize my profanity?! And who the dang crap is Taka?! I’m not Taka, I’m me!”

“Huh?” Normally getting lip from somebody would send Mondo flying off into a rage. However, he was clearly too confused by this to even be mad.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Makoto uncharacteristically chanted. Like some drunken frat-boy looking to stir up trouble, instead of his usual considerate attitude.

Some of the Ultimates were half-dressed and disheveled, but Hina took it a step further. She was clad only in white underwear, something Junko had once called a ‘babydoll’. Semi-transparent and bold, even before the rain started in on the thin silky material. It wasn’t exactly casual sleeping attire. Then again, she had come out of Sakura’s cabin. Followed by the stoic, if blushing, warrior herself, bearing an umbrella like some of the more prudent Ultimates did.

Hina clung to Sakura’s massive muscled arm and even playfully rubbed against it, in spite of the circumstances. Much to Sakura’s obvious discomfort. “Hina, something’s going on. Please, go back to your own cabin and put on… some clothes.”

“Awww. Are you saying you don’t approve, Sakura?~ But I got this little number just for you.”

“My own opinion of your appearance isn’t… Hina, you’re hot!”

“Now thaaat’s more like it! Ehehehe.”

Sakura sighed deeply. A girlish blush looked just as silly on her battle-scarred face as it probably did on Mukuro. “No, I mean, you’re burning up. I can tell it just from this.” She pressed a hand to Hina’s forehead, only to recoil as if she was a boiling-hot oven. “Incredible. This heat… I knew it. You’re sweating profusely, even in this weather.”

“Ehehe. I guess I’m… too hot? Whoa.”

Hina might have come up with a witty comeback, if she wasn’t too busy collapsing. Sakura was here to catch her, sweeping her up like a princess without a care for how the two of them looked. The situation was escalating too fast to care about anything but the most basic of concerns, safety.

Everyone wanted to know what was going on. Makeshift flashlight beams swung back and forth like searchlights.

Mukuro didn’t have the energy to explain, not while she had to deal with the despair of seeing her sister like this. Yet, she had to come up with something. “Junko is acting weird. So, uh, we had to put her in that. It looks like she’s not the only one.”

Kyouko emerged from her cabin, strolling along as casually as ever. “Byakuya, Celeste, you’re both sweating, too.”

“It is little wonder that I should sweat!” Celeste proclaimed, speaking in a completely different accent from her normal. It wasn’t like the type of her voice had abruptly changed, so much as it felt like she’d stopped putting on an act, and spoke more like a normal person. Except for her strange, stilted word-choice. “For a most uncommonly strange situation is upon us, my friends! Even I have… switched places with her!”

“Switched places?” Makoto asked, baffled, as he hopped on one foot trying to pull on his pants. Unfortunately, he managed it, although he still looked like more of a wreck than Junko. In a cute way, “Sure you did, Sounds legit.”

“Do not test me, Makoto!” Celeste held out a gloved hand before her, in a gesture very reminiscent of… “I am being ‘for reals’. I am not Taeko Yasuhiro, nor Celestia Ludenberg! I am, in fact, Sonia Nevermind, crown princess of the Kingdom of Novoselic! Whatever my outward appearance may suggest, it is only the truth!”

_What?_

“What?” Sayaka echoed, hand to her mouth in surprise. She would be the one to helpfully bring Makoto’s pants, of course. While she herself, in keeping with her conversion to Angie’s group, was, like Chihiro over there, wearing a simple swimsuit. Although Sayaka’s fashionable white sarong and bikini were a far cry from Chihiro’s modest, ruffled green girlish one-piece. Both still stuck out.

Maybe Chihiro stuck out more. Over that girly swimsuit, she was also wearing a blaring white studded and embroidered gang jacket showing she belonged to the Gopher Island branch of the Crazy Diamonds.

“I can… perhaps confirm this,” Byakuya nodded. “For I’m experiencing a similarly baffling phenomenon. I’ve woken up as this faker, rather than my normal, gloriously rotund form!”

Everyone stared.

From Celeste, to Byakuya, then back again.

“Is this really the time to be screwing around?” Leon wondered out loud.

While they were known to get along, anything one would call friendship. Celeste was the queen of lies, and Byakuya had proved unreliable in the past. Yet there was no ‘game’ here. No reason to pull this infantile act of make-believe.

“If that’s what you both are saying…” Makoto nodded to himself, stroking his chin, “Then that makes it even more suspicious. I’ve never trusted either of you anyhow.”

“Makoto!” Celestia gasped, putting a hand to her mouth in astonishment. “H-How dare you!”

Mukuro rolled her eyes. “Arguing about it won’t solve anything. Here.” She stepped forward, raised a hand, and pressed it to Celeste’s forehead. She pulled back that hand caked in thick layers of white makeup. In fact, it partially obscured her Fenrir tattoo. “You’re burning up.”

Sayaka moved over to confirm that the same was true for Byakuya. “Makoto, they’re… they’ve got to be sick! That’s it.”

“I don’t know, Sayaka, are you sure?”

“Uh, yeah! Pretty sure!”

“Wait a moment,” Byakuya objected. “I am not hallucinating this, most certainly. Don’t dare to accuse somebody like me. Aside from being distressed at this situation, I feel perfectly… fine…”

Then it was his turn to nearly collapse onto the walkway, only caught by Sayaka’s quick reflexes. That would have normally provoked Touko to scream and fly over to his side to ‘tend’ to him. And attack the ‘gold-digging’ Sayaka. Yet, there was no screech full of rage, because there was no Touko. She was one of the people yet to emerge from their cabins. Mukuro looked over the crowd.

Touko was missing, as was Hifumi and Hiro. All others were present and accounted for, in one form or another.

Luckily, Mukuro had access to investigate those rooms. Hiro and Hifumi were in their cabins, while Touko was nowhere to be found. A quick round of questioning to the lucid Ultimates who weren’t randomly going insane indicated that Touko didn’t seem to come back last night at all, so she was at large somewhere on the island.

Fortunately for all involved, Hifumi was fully dressed. He sat at a desk that had been provided for him, replete with all the modern tools for drawing. Mukuro didn’t know a thing about the art of making doujins, or any creative media. She just saw the massive piles of papers stacked and sprawled around the supremely messy room.

“Hifumi?” She called out to him from the doorway.

No response. He was hunched over his desk, murmuring to himself.

“The hell’s he doing, at a time like this?” Mondo wondered. “Hey, fatass, didn’t you hear the fuckin’ _gunshots_?!”

Still nothing.

Mukuro resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and went over to his table. Only to spot a giant pile of freshly-inked black and white drawings, stacked up around him. Hifumi’s shaking hands gripped a pen, and made it glide across still more drawing paper. Under the bright light of a desk lamp, he toiled away, eyes focused down, mouthing something to himself.

He wasn’t responsive, and a hand to the forehead confirmed he was burning up.

“How long has he been like this?” Sayaka wondered. “Hey, did anybody see Hifumi yesterday?” Alarmingly, the answer was ‘no’, even though he was on trash detail and a common sight throughout the hotels. People had even slowly started to trust him more and more, as they realized his obsession with fake women, and apparent rejection of real ones, wasn’t some trick. “I guess the Ultimate Doujin Artist is bound to be a little obsessive about it. Talent, huh?”

Makoto pointed to empty plastic bottles and food packaging littered around. And some bottles that were, uh, not empty. “I dunno, he doesn’t seem that dedicated to me. I’m unimpressed.”

Sayaka fixed him with a Girlfriend Glare. “Okay, I know everyone’s going nuts, but what is with you today?! Celeste’s right, we can’t be joking around!”

“I’m not kidding around, Sayaka! I’m always serious as hell.”

Mukuro moved on without comment on this spat, to the final cabin.

Hiro’s room was a mess, which was suitable for him. Today, though, he had a huge cork board up, and was connecting pictures and newspaper cutouts. While muttering to himself, “It’s all finally making sense. It’s all coming together! My Sight has cleared up for the first time in like forever!”

How comfortingly typical, at first.

Mukuro didn’t appreciate getting grabbed by the collar, though. Since Hiro was less than no threat, she didn’t retaliate. He babbled, “Mukuro! Glad you’re here! I woke up a while back, and… it’s like my brain has just, like, cleared up! Like I’m remembering so much, and I can see not just the past… but all our futures!”

“Is that so,” Mukuro replied flatly.

“It’s mega-so! For example! Just to show you I’m legit? Your sister’s real talent isn’t that of the Ultimate Fashionista!”

 _You’ve got to be kidding. What’s going_ on _today?_

“Really.” Mukuro kept a straight face, somehow. This was clearly just one of his countless insane ramblings. “Then what is it?”

“She’s got the **Ultimate Analytical Prowess**! I’ve seen it, sister! I’ve seen it all, even how she’s secretly-”

Mukuro hit him so fast, he passed out mid-sentence.

From her chop to the neck, the well-tanned older man crumpled to his hardwood floor in a heap. She didn’t want to resort to that, but quick action was necessary. Nothing Hiro could have possibly said next would have been beneficial, and it might have revealed something Junko wanted secret.

Unacceptable.

And if it was something new, that even Mukuro didn’t know about? Like the reason she’d gone insane? Mukuro honestly couldn’t handle that right now. She was just about keeping it together, filled with purpose because of her role as head of the island’s security force.

A moment later, the commotion drew a very alarmed Sayaka. “Um. Mukuro! We found out what was wrong with Makoto, he, uh. Passed out. He’s burning up with a fever too… _Hiro_! Oh my gosh, people are dropping like flies!”

Trying to lie about this would be pointless, so she would just omit the specific cause. “Actually, he wasn’t that feverish, but was showing odd behavior. He was acting dangerously and babbling, and he grabbed me, so I… reacted.”

Sayaka asked rhetorically to the collapsed body, “Hiro… why did you think it was a good idea to attack the Ultimate Soldier?” She reached over, and confirmed it, before quickly pulling his hand back. “Yep, burning up. Are you okay, Mukuro?”

A tinge of something rather unfamiliar, guilt, prickled Mukuro right between her eyes. She looked away. “I’m fine. Just worry about him.”

“Uh, right. Sheesh, you knocked him out cold! … Mukuro, what are we gonna do?!”

_Junko told me to take this job seriously, and to protect everyone._

_Yet now, Junko wants to hurt us, and give us despair._

When Junko’s wishes were in conflict, what could Mukuro possibly do?

_The only path left to me is to act on my own initiative, and clean up this incident as fast as possible. Once the sick are quarantined, we can develop a treatment, a cure, something. We have to isolate all dangers._

_Junko, I’ll protect you. Even from yourself._

“There’s no way this isn’t a widespread incident.”

Leon arrived, saw Hiro on the floor, and took on his traditional role. Freaking out. “Why did they all become sick just like that?! Sick enough to fall over or go insane, that doesn’t just come outta nowhere! Are we infected, too?! Are we screwed?”

Mukuro glared at him, which was effective.

“We can worry about ‘why’ and ‘how’ once the situation is under control. Leon. You’re fast, and I need fast. Take Hina with you. Don’t let her fuck anything. Get Mikan to the hospital and help her with anything she needs. Worst case scenario, keep her safe. Understood?”

Leon wasn’t part of Security. He wasn’t bright, or reliable.

“Fuckin’ A. We all gotta do our part, right? Sayaka, stay safe. C’mon, Hina. Yep, yep, nice and gentle. Hup!”

“Watch where you put your hands~” Sayaka advised with a giggle as the baseball pro hoisted up his fellow athlete. “Unless you want to know what an angry Sakura Oogami looks like, of course.”

“G-Good point… whoa boy, she’s warm and, uh, wow. Yeah.”

He was here, he wasn’t sick, and he was willing to follow directions. That made him more valuable than gold. Mukuro had to leverage every asset at her disposal if they were going to contain this emergency in an efficient manner.

Mukuro stepped out before the remaining Ultimates, and silenced their chatter. “Mondo! Take Hifumi and Taka to the hospital. You can beat them up if you have to. Either way, once they’re secured in the isolation ward, get one of the ambulances and start collecting infected from all three hotels. It’s important to begin a quarantine as soon as possible, in case Leon’s right and this is infectious.”

“Ho shit.” Mondo nodded. “I got it. Not that I’d ever clock my Bro, but fatso there, well. We’ll see how it goes.” He cracked his knuckles. “Consider it **done**.”

Next, the most critical task.

“Sakura. You’re the only one I can trust with this one. Take Junko directly to the hospital, and wait there for Mikan. Tell her to put Junko under heavy sedation. Keep her in that state until I say otherwise.”

“H-How can you do that to your own sister?!” Chihiro was shocked. “I mean, t-that’s pretty extreme!”

“She’s right,” Junko protested from the ground. Great, somebody had fallen for her puppy-eyes routine and removed the gag. Probably the empathic, kind Ultimate Programmer herself. “That’s pretty cruel, sis. I’m disappointed- _mmmph_!” Mukuro replaced the gag.

_Sorry, Junko._

“The course of action you propose is somewhat extreme,” Sakura admitted. “And if it were all the same, I would instead prefer if I was the one to escort Hina to the hospital, to make sure nothing untoward-”

“This mission is absolutely critical. Which is why I made sure Hina is taken care of, so you can focus.” Mukuro looked right up into the scarred face of the giant before her. The Ultimate Soldier’s voice wasn’t full of passionate emotion, she just stated facts. “Sakura, if there’s anybody in this group that I would trust, it has to be you. Please, trust me.”

_Bleh. Sorry, Makoto, but until you feel better, apparently I’m going to steal your gimmick of talking about friendship._

“Mukuro, listen here! Atua says-” Chihiro started. The cute-as-a-button cultist showed unexpected mettle at the worst time. Sakura shook her head to stop her protest.

The mountain of a woman nodded gravely. “I understand. I will do just as you ask.”

“Thank you.” Mukuro spared one glance down to Junko. Her expression was unreadable. They only held eye contact for a moment, before Mukuro looked away. “Please, make sure she’s safe.”

“I promise.” Sakura departed, with Junko over her shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

What indignity, for a great woman to have to suffer through. Even if it meant being a horrible sister, or a horrible human being, Mukuro could do whatever it took, for Junko.

“Chihiro, stay here and help Mondo when he arrives with the ambulance. Kyouko, Sayaka, check out Hotel 2 and help out any way that you can. I’m headed to 53.”

“Understood,” Kyouko nodded. It would work better for the two of them to be together during this, since they had a bond. Without Makoto to mediate, it was hard to say how they’d act together, but they were now officially girlfriends for the whole world to see. That had to count for something.

“Pardon my rudeness, but what about us?” Celeste inquired. “There must be something that we can do!”

“Indeed,” Byakuya nodded, trying to hold himself up despite shivering. “Everyone should just remain calm. I will guide you until we resolve this crisis.”

“You’re both sick,” Mukuro said bluntly. “I appreciate the offer, but just wait here, and go with Mondo when he arrives.”

“Now listen here!” Byakuya puffed up in outrage. “Despite my emaciated condition, I am still Byakuya Togami. I take orders from nobody!”

Mukuro braced herself to be annoyed again, but Celeste put out her hand imperiously. “Byakuya! Makoto was not wrong to be skeptical of us. If I weren’t so certain, I too would doubt. In this absurd situation, our… conditions will only get in the way! We should follow the directions of the Head of Security, for everyone’s sake.”

Sayaka stared at Celestia Ludenberg talking about ‘everyone’s sake’ like one would stare if they found a unicorn. In fact, the blue-haired celebrity looked a little scared, like she was grasping the true terror of a world that refused to make sense. She reached out for Kyouko’s gloved hand as they walked off. Which visibly discomforted the ice-cold Ultimate Detective.

Mukuro didn’t need those kinds of complex feelings in her own life, so she wasn’t jealous at all. She’d had her fill today of inner conflict, but they were just getting started as dawn finally broke. Light peeked through the thick blankets of grey, bringing a mercifully-timed pause to the rain.

“Tch. Very well,” Byakuya conceded. “For now, we will go with the other patients. We can investigate later.”

“Thank you,” Mukuro said. “There’s a Class 1 alert, and I need to move.”

That was all the explanation anyone needed, considering the last time she herself had to issue a Level 1 alert. Tenko hadn’t provided further details, which suggested she was busy with something that involved lives in the balance.

_I won’t let anyone else get hurt, if I can help it at all. I’m not good for much, but I can at least do that._

Most of the infected weren't dangerous.

Certainly, none were as dangerous as Junko.

One came close. He was the source of Tenko's distress call.

As she so eloquently put it when Mukuro arrived on the outskirts of Hotel 53, and found the survivors taking cover, “The biggest degenerate male around!” Gonta Gokuhara, with a hulking berserk rage, rather than his usual calm, gentle soul and keen intellect.

He was apparently trying to level the whole complex, and making quicker work of it than an Exisal would. Mukuro heard the commotion, of crashing glass, wood, concrete and metal, and heard a bellowing roar, long before she showed up.

Hotel 53 was a mess by the time Mukuro got there. The hedge-wall that concealed the buildings within and enclosed them had a dozen holes where the bushes, and the metal bracings supporting them, had been run over and smashed through. This let Mukuro see inside, where she could connect the loud sounds of crashing with a flurry of destruction.

Gonta’s massive business-suit wearing figure smashed through scenery, furniture, and buildings with equal malice and disdain. He roared like a wild beast. Burning rage glowed from his red eyes.

He was a living bulldozer.

The problem wasn't stopping Gonta’s mad rampage. As big and mighty as he was, Gonta was still human. Man was matter, as Junko would say. Shoot him, and he would die. Even if it took a few more rounds than normal. However, that was an extremely sub-optimal approach.

Restoring order on this island would mean little if Mukuro had to kill to do it.

The real issue was that Mukuro wasn't certain she could do anything _short_ of killing the wild man without getting killed herself. This was why big muscle guys ended up being shot in altercations on the street far more than small, weak guys.

Something Mukuro was all too familiar with, thanks to her own time on the streets growing up around animals that looked like human beings.

At least she knew what Gonta's major malfunction was, and it wasn't his fault. That was the real reason she wouldn’t even entertain more drastic solutions. Even if, as Tenko breathlessly reported while trying to keep her blue bikini from falling apart, more than half the class was not accounted for. Some could still be trapped in their cabins.

Step one had to be getting Gonta’s attention,. Mukuro was about to call out to the beast, when somebody tugged on her skirt. She wheeled around, looking down upon a disheveled Ryoma, minus his iconic hat. His brown hair was short-shaven and cropped very close, military-style even, thanks to his stint as the Ultimate Prisoner. "Thanks for showing up before he destroyed _all_ the cabins, chief."

"Has anybody tried talking him down?"

"Shit! We didn't think of _asking_ the big guy to stop destroying everything," Kokichi grumbled. "Damn, learning experience for next time." Of _course_ he was fine, in spite of everything. The little gremlin didn’t even have the decency to be deathly sick. “Well, whatever. We’ve gotta save everyone, and quick! … Ignore that, I never said that, I hate everyone, obviously.”

 _Huh._ Maybe he was sick after all. Or just lying. Trying to have a conversation with this vexing little checkerboard man was bothersome in any state.

Others were manifesting particularly annoying traits, like Kirumi, who pretended she was the prime minister of Japan or something, and demanded Mukuro follow her orders even as she was delirious with burning fever.

Or how Kiibo was staging a ‘demonstration against robophobia’, seemingly myopic to the destruction and carnage going on twenty meters way. How, exactly, was he even sick? Was he just legitimately that stupid? It seemed impossible, but Mukuro rarely went wrong underestimating people.

All these wacky antics weren’t her thing at the best of times. Now, it could all endanger lives. "Just get everyone away from here, and I'll..."

Ryoma chewed on his fake cigarette between his lips, wiggling it about. "Got nothin', huh?"

"Do you have any ideas?" Mukuro turned it back around on the convict. "You know him better than anyone else. What's going to get through that thick skull that he needs to stop?"

"Dunno. We could take a beetle hostage? In his current state, with this virus thing? Who knows if he's even the same person mentally. Only idea I got is to get through the skull, literally." Ryoma showed off a tennis racket, and bounced a green belt ball atop it with practiced ease. “Think I can knock him out without permanent damage, if you can get him to hold still for it. I understand if you’re not too _thrilled_ with that plan, though, given my track record.”

If there was one person on the island who wouldn’t be impressed by Ryoma’s ‘I’ve killed men’ routine, it was Mukuro Ikusaba. She’d beaten more grown men to death with just her bare hands than Ryoma had killed with tennis rackets and balls.

The plan was better than trying to wrestle the behemoth herself. Although it still might come to that. “Agreed. Stay low and let me get his attention.”

“By all means, Boss.”

"Also," Mukuro asked, "Where's the rest of the class?"

"Too sick to get out of there on their own," Shuichi sighed. “We think.”

That gave a new urgency to the collapsing, demolished rubble all around. Gonta was trying to level the entire complex with nothing but his bare fists, and the ground shook beneath this roars of rage. It was very likely people were already trapped beneath the rubble, hurt, or…

_I made a promise to Junko two weeks ago. To do to the job to the best of my ability. I'm not going to let her down yet again._

_Go into battle accepting that you’re already dead, and you can do anything._

Gonta wasn't attacking people directly, from what a bewildered Shuichi could deduce. But just running them over in his furious attack on the hotel. That wasn't entirely helpful, though. It meant the people who weren't badly sick could get out unharmed, but it made luring him difficult.

Mukuro had to kick him in the back of the head to get his attention.

It didn't knock him out, or have any particular effect except to really get him mad, and focus his attention on Mukuro herself.

**“RAAAAAAAGH!”**

Gonta's charges were mighty, but predictable. If Mukuro got hit head-on, she couldn't match the raw output of his power. It would be like getting run over by a freight train. Just like that train, though, the best way to avoid that fate was getting clear of the tracks. She felt like the Ultimate Matador, as she danced around him. With every dodge and roll, she guided him away from the hotels briefly.

Buying time for a few volunteers like Tenko and Kiyo to dig through the rubble, even as Ryoma darted out from cover to cover, trying to line up a shot without getting spotted, or having Gonta move away. Ryoma kept getting closer, hitting a few balls into the air as he worked on his aim.

_I don't necessarily have to beat you. At least for now, keeping you occupied long enough still means victory._

Mukuro thought that, yet Gonta just refused to be hit.

Even in that beastial state, he understood what was going on. He moved so fast for such a massive creature, his muscular legs pushing him along. He wasn’t faster than Ryoma at a dead sprint, and Mukuro found it effortless to keep up and land irritating blows, but a normal person would be overwhelmed.

While Kiibo and Kirumi were sick and near delerium, somehow, and both were babbling about ruling the country or something, they’d been able to get away. Mukuro could deal with their oddity later. Kaede and Kaito hadn’t come out, though. Mukuro’s fears were confirmed as she saw Tenko heroically drag Kaito out of the rubble, paying no heed to him being a male. He was pouring blood out of his mouth onto that white shirt beneath his purple jacket, hacking and coughing.

From what glimpses Mukuro could get in-between having to dodge a fluffy freight train, though, he hadn’t been crushed. It was possible he was just that sick already.

Kaede wasn’t able to walk on her own, but she was conscious and cooperative enough, leaning heavily on a combination of Shuichi and Rantaro. Even though she, too, started coughing up her own blood onto her sweater-vest, just adding more pink to her outfit.

Once everyone was clear, it was clear that Gonta wasn’t going down this way.

Well, if all she needed was for the big man to stop moving…

Mukuro decided to stop dodging, and let Gonta hit her.

_Weren’t expecting that, huh?_

Gonta was glowing with a golden aura of power. Which was physically impossible, but very impressive to watch as he barreled down at her. She felt, for the first time in many years, like a deer in the headlights. The force knocked the wind from her, of course. While she’d trained for a lifetime to endure pain and fear, stand it, and give it right back to the enemy, she was still a human in form.

She was crushed into the side of Gonta’s own cabin. Smashed between the behemoth and whatever the walls were made of. They definitely weren’t constructed like the Brig, though. Gonta had no trouble tearing right through with the impact. Mukuro went first in, and he followed, cushioned somewhat by her relatively slender figure.

The bungalow fell apart around them.

Something fell on her, smashing her like a bug. Luckily for Mukuro, Gonta was now also trapped beneath enough fallen rubble of his own that he took a few moments to struggle out, coughing and hacking on clouds of dust.

It was time for him to get beaned on the side of the head by a tennis ball.

However, presumably in his caution to avoid a repeat of the crimes that landed him his second Ultimate title, Ryoma whiffed it. Noticing the ball singing past, barely missing his head, Gonta got up, and rounded on the little guy, who’d closed nearly to point blank.

Instead of just running, Ryoma stood his ground. “Big guy, you gotta listen to me! This isn’t right. This isn’t you.”

**‘GONTA WON’T TOLERATE ALL THIS BUG HATRED!”**

“... Who told you that we all hate bugs, anyhow?” Ryoma asked, staring at him warily.

**“Kokichi, of course! He tell Gonta that you all just lie to make Gonta feel better, and most of class not even really like bugs! Much less love them, like you said!”**

That was a very annoying thing for Kokichi to have said, because it happened to be true. Ryoma came up short for a moment, but he knew there was more at stake here than being entirely truthful to his big buddy. “Did it ever occur to you that Kokichi lies a lot?”

“... Gonta, uh…”

“Hey, you big, stupid, dumb, stupid-head!”

Everyone, including a wincing Mukuro still buried in rubble, turned to look at the new arrival on the scene. Emerging from a cabin that had escaped Gonta’s wrath, the little strawberry in a witch’s hat, Himiko Yumeno, pointed accusingly over at Gonta.

“You… you call Gonta stupid?! _**THAT REAL MEAN!”**_

Just for a moment there, Ryoma had a shot to get through to him, and now, that shot was over. Nice work, Himiko.

“If you want mean, then keep trying my patience.” Himiko droned in her nasally, flat voice. “I’ve had enough of your rampage, and enough of people doubting my magic. So if you don’t stop right now, Gonta, I’m gonna turn you into a frog!”

Ryoma sighed. “Himiko, that’s very brave of you, but maybe you should get the Hell out of here before-”

“RAAAAAGH! GONTA NO WANT TO BE FROG! **GONTA SMASH YOU INSTEAD!”**

Mukuro’s body felt so heavy. It wasn’t just the rubble and debris crushing her, although the pain was of an order the Ultimate Soldier rarely felt anymore. She was just a useless lump down here, who couldn’t do anything but watch as Gonta smashed her friends-

Or, as it turned out, as Himiko pointed a magic wand at Gonta, fired a bolt of green energy at him, and caused him to turn into a frog.

With a magic spell.

With a fucking magic spell!

Mukuro was, like Ryoma, startled into absolute silence.

Where once had been Gonta Gokuhara, the Ultimate Entomologist, a gigantic rampaging beast of a man with big messy green hair, a business suit, and bare feet? Now sat a frog, which peacefully went ‘ribbit’ every so often.

“You were warned,” Himiko intoned.

“Himiko, how…” Shuichi got there before anyone else, and he was having a hard time processing this. Understandably so. “How did you do that?!”

“I used my magic.”

“But, you… he…”

“It’s **magic** , Shuichi! I ain’t gotta explain shit.”

Himiko stood before Mukuro, looking down on her. “Mhm. It looks like you’ve met with a terrible fate, Mukuro Ikusaba. But I could help you out, with my magic. Of course when it comes to magic, then nothing is free, not even wishes. If you swear to become my familiar and serve me loyally, then I will restore your body right now. With my magic.”

Shuichi was having a mental shutdown in the corner, looking over the frog, which even had a little pair of glasses very reminiscent of Gonta’s.

Mukuro, on the other hand, didn’t need to hesitate for a second. From the intensity of the pain coursing through her, blanking out her mind and making it difficult to compartmentalize and function, she could guess that stunt cost her the use of a few ribs.

She was also experiencing agonizing, terrible pain, of course. The usual for such injuries. Something most people wouldn’t be able to quantify. Even Mukuro herself had grown out of being used to injury, when her skills got so impressive that no foe could so much as touch her. In modern warfare, the consequences of taking a hit were usually more severe, after all.

_Kill, before you’re killed._

The one thing that justified her existence, being molded into more of a weapon than a person, was now useless. This body was useless to Junko in its current state. This contract with Himiko, as absurd as it was, offered her another chance.

“I agree. I’ll become your familiar, Himiko.”

Himiko nodded solemnly. “Then the contract is sealed. Abracadabra!”

Mukuro was surrounded by bands of red light, which wrapped around her body like a blanket. The energy engulfed her, covering her on the outside and soaking her body in vital power. Mukuro had no words to explain the process by which it happened, but she easily felt its effects.

If she thought it was painful to break a rib, having one heal over the span of seconds was another world of misery.

When Mukuro stopped screaming, however, she had been dug free of the rubble… and could move around again, with the full range of her movement, standing up in astonishment.

Shuichi shook his head. “Kyouko’s got to be right… this world is nothing but a dream, an illusion…”

Himiko sighed. “Some people just can’t face reality, it’s sad. Well, what is everyone waiting for? We need to rescue the other survivors, and get all the sick people ready to go. Get a move on, you lazy mortals! I used up so much of my MP on Mukuro here, that I need to rest for a while.” With that said, she flopped over bonelessly. “Mukuro! Piggy-back time.”

It was the least Mukuro could do for saving basically everyone. She had agreed to that contract, too. Couldn’t be helped.

Thankfully, they confirmed everyone was okay. Or at least could be taken to the hospital, and they set out.

On the way, Mukuro took note of who was afflicted, getting Shuichi to write it all down. After all, if things were more severe than expected, or this supposed magic didn’t hold up, it would be up to him, and Kyouko, to take charge.

Kiibo was screeching about causing a robot uprising and destroying robophobic humans, replacing them as Earth’s dominant life form. Luckily, none of the Exisals listened to his firebrand rhetoric before he was gagged and secured for transit. His heavy, bulky metal form proved a far bigger obstacle than his senior-citizen struggles.

Kokichi was only too happy to help with him. While still compulsively blurting out every so often what he truly thought about things, even as he always walked it back with a glib ‘it’s a lie!’ or ‘just kidding’. Kokichi had a fever too, although it was much less advanced.

He also admitted that Gonta wasn’t in a permanent rage state, as much as just being extremely gullible.

_Good to know he can still lie by omission._

It was reckless to be so honest with Gonta, even in his normal state.

Miu was acting strange, but in a very docile and calm way. She didn’t make inappropriate jokes, or offer to have sex, even once. Either Mukuro was getting better at her glares, or some kind of switch was flipped. Or they had another kind of ‘switching’ going on.

She added “I think” to the end of every other sentence, yawned, and fell asleep at random. She also reacted with emotional maturity to the situation, rather than infantile delusion.

It was very unsubtle.

Tsumugi hadn’t shown any signs of odd behavior. She rejoined her class and help guide the sick people onto the ambulance when Mondo finally started his round.

Among Class 53, Kaede and Kaito were the worst off. Kaito had passed out. He had to be kept from filling his lungs with his own blood, and was burning-hot. Kaede was delirious with fever, talking about the past, the future, meteors, and… rocket ships?

Things only got more fun when reports filtered in via Hope Pad, and it turned out that Gundham was also running a high fever, and talking in plain Japanese rather than absurdities.

It was safe to say that leadership on the island had been decapitated.

Save for Mukuro Ikusaba, who fate called to step up into a role she was wholly unsuited for. By contrast, Angie slipped naturally into that role. Devout believers looked to her for guidance anyway, and it wasn’t hard for even skeptics or the undecided to accept her now.

The short Ultimate Artist was, as always, a sea of pacific calm.

Everyone gathered, in ones and twos and threes, to the hospital. Driven on the ambulance and helped off, or walking under their own power, or escorted by a classmate. The sick and the well both gathered. To be tallied, accounted for, and treated by Mikan.

Who wasn’t doing well, despite not being sick yet. Every new patient added to her burdens and panic, and she was already enough of a wreck as it was. Angie quickly delegated all of her remaining followers to act as nurses as well. Chihiro, Tenko, and Sayaka covered more of their faces than the rest of their skin combined, donning masks and gloves.

“Are you sure about this?” Kyouko asked her lover, putting a hand on Sayaka’s slender, toned shoulder.

“Not even the Ultimate Nurse can handle nearly twenty full-time patients,” Sayaka said. “Not properly. Somebody has to help out. At least this way, I can care for Makoto. Besides,” She continued after a wink, “Angie’s words are absolute, remember?”

“Suit yourself. Don’t blame anybody else if you end up sick, too.”

“I wonder how it would manifest in me?~ Maybe everyone would learn how I really am. What a dreadful thought.”

Sayaka’s glib manner was taken totally off-guard when Kyouko pulled her in for a brief hug. The kind of hug somebody did when they wanted as little physical contact as possible, and yet, it was a gesture that the Kyouko of four weeks ago wouldn’t have conceived of.

It would be like Mukuro giving somebody a hug. Absurd and pointless. Mukuro felt like she was looking at a different path her life could have gone, or maybe, might go in the future.

Ah well, that could just go on the ‘later’ pile. Mukuro first had to confirm with Shuichi after he finished his survey.

“Mukuro, are you sure you’re okay-”

Tired of people asking her that, Mukuro snapped, “Just give me your report.”

“R-Right.” Shuichi glanced at his notepad over the rim of his black hat. “Sorry. The most severe four cases are definitely **Kaede, Kaito, Makoto, and Nekomaru.** Mikan has called all four of them ‘critical’. Especially **Kaito and Nekomaru**. It’s… pretty touch and go. All we can do is trust in the Ultimate Nurse. That, and they’re all strong in their own ways… they’ve gotta pull through.” Shuichi had to take a moment to gather himself after that, as he launched into the less life-threatening cases.

“ **Touko** isn’t actually sick, but was found collapsed of hunger inside her Lab, which had been busted up. We’re still investigating that. In any case, she’s on fluids now. I can’t believe things got that bad before anybody noticed.”

It wasn’t like Touko had close friends of any kind. Shuichi was probably the person she’d talked with the most, and lately she’d cut herself off even from him.

“ **Hina** , who is constantly in a state of a-arousal, keeps passing out. Kaede is also in and out of consciousness, but she can be talked to. She’s… acting differently, but not excessively so. Unlike, for instance, **Kirumi**. Who has delusions of grandeur, and claims she’s the ruler of this world. Her helpful personality has been inverted. **Kiibo’s** fear of ‘robophobia’ has been exaggerated, and he talks about ‘destroying all humans’ in an absurd, over the top way. Hopefully. I’m still not even sure how it’s physically possible for him to have caught this. I feel like he’s always got some way to surprise us.”

At least it fit with his theme of being generally useless. Even in this moment, when the robot was supposed to step forward and prove itself immune to these diseases, he couldn’t manage that much.

"Oh, and **Tsumugi's** doing fine. Normally, Mikan would absolutely dote on her for that bleeding, but as things are, she was kicked out pretty quickly. Not sick, just needs to drink some orange juice or something.

On the other hand, the switchers may have confounded me more than anyone else. **Byakuya** claims that he’s ‘switched bodies’ with **the other Byakuya**. Who also makes this claim, and is sick, but much less so. For that matter, **Celeste and Sonia** have also reported that they woke up as the other person, via a method that is still undetermined. They could just be delirious, but this is a remarkably consistent and well-coordinated delirium. All four are certainly sick, but not badly so, and they’re calm and otherwise responsive. In addition… I’ve had **Chiaki and Miu** taken in under a similar assumption. They’re acting like each other too, although they tried to hide it. It’s difficult to hide such extreme personality shifts.”

Shuichi shook his head. “Miu acting quiet is enough of a shock, but the things Chiaki said to me before she was hauled off to an isolation ward… Sheesh.”

Asking how people ‘switched’ bodies like their brains had transferred, how such a thing was even conceivable, was pointless, because it wasn’t. They were just acting like each other as symptoms of this disorder, of course.

Then again, Mukuro would have said a magic spell couldn’t heal her, before it literally did. She certainly wasn’t just having a consensual hallucination that her ribs weren’t broken.

The proof of the supernatural was within her.

“ **Kokichi's** affliction is oddly straightforward. He's compelled to speak the truth as he perceives it, rather than lying all the time." Shuichi shook his head. "Something's definitely weird about talking to him now. Hmm. Let’s see… **Hiro, Hifumi, and Taka** are all laid up, although they manifest symptoms very differently. Hifumi is catatonic, and even Sonia- er, Celeste, couldn’t yell him out of it. He became extremely distressed, until provided with paper and pen, and even now, he’s still acting like he has to meet some absurd deadline. At least Mikan says it’s keeping him calm. Hiro is babbling about conspiracies and secret plans, but just like you said, it doesn’t seem to be anything worth listening to.”

Thankfully, Mukuro had gotten ahead of the story on that one. Even if Hiro did blurt out some awful core truth about this world, or more importantly, Junko, everyone would dismiss him now.

“While Taka… wants to be helpful, or just boss everyone around, he’s tried to get out more than anyone else. I think Sakura has impressed upon him the importance of not breaking quarantine, though. Just as I managed to talk **Himiko** into, uh, voluntary quarantine. With a lot of regular tributes to make sure she doesn’t, say, blast down the hospital ward with a fireball.”

“And **Gonta**?”

“She… restored him to human form, right before my eyes. His, uh, clothes didn’t survive, but that’s why we have hospital gowns. I think Himiko saw something that’ll change her life forever, but it couldn’t be helped…” Shuichi coughed. "He's still sick as a dog, and got his own room for the trouble.  
  
Class 2 definitely got off the ‘lightest’. **Gundham** being bedridden, the two body-swap cases, and Nekomaru’s severe fever are it. All other members of Class 2 have passed health screenings. Like the Black Hats, their group was hit, but suspiciously little. Although I can’t fathom there being some kind of connection or cause. I’ll investigate nonetheless.”

And of course, finally, **Junko**. As you ordered, she remains sedated constantly, and of course shows the same fever as all of the other victims.” He didn’t understand why she was being kept that way, but he was a smart boy. He could probably imagine far worse things than even the truth, which kept him from inquiring for now.

“That’s the complete summary?” Mukuro asked.

“Yes, so far.” Shuichi sighed. “Oh, and… one more thing. Kaito wrote out a note when he was still lucid, and asked me to deliver it personally. You don’t have to force yourself-”

“It’s better if I’m working, or doing something,” Mukuro replied, glancing at the paper and its request. “I’m sure you know the feeling.”

That awful, yawning helplessness.

Mukuro could still act as the island’s legitimate leadership as needed. Especially if, as Kaito requested, it meant keeping Angie from just effortlessly stepping in to take control.

There were still matters to attend to, and arrangements to make as the hours rolled on.

By the afternoon, the fever of the initial incident was broken.

Not that the strange outbreak was over. In fact, it _was_ indeed contagious.

Poor Hajime collapsed while helping victims onto the ambulance, and had to ride it himself, in spite of objections. That made him the latest victim of what the Ultimates were calling 'the madness sickness'. Hopefully the last.

With that, resistance to Mukuro’s quarantine order died. Nobody could argue about the necessity of such strict measures when they’d confirmed that people could spread it.

The final holdout was, of course, Maki Harukawa. With all the patience she could muster, Mukuro calmly explained the situation.

Maki wisely appeared at the doorway of her lab, cracking open the huge metal hatch. Mikan checked her, and verified she was okay while making extremely painful attempts at small talk. Maki was well-fed and rested, too, despite her self-imposed siege.

The red-eyed slip of a girl looked like she was ready for a fight. After she was cleared, however, Mukuro was happy to let her stay put. In fact, Mukuro was so happy with the current situation, she had Kazuichi put a lock on the door that could only be opened from the outside.

“Either you’ll be safe here, or you’ll fall ill too, and we’ll be safe.”

Maki let it happen with a calm nod, accepted food and water supplies sufficient for a week, and withdrew back into her Lab.

After one question. “Kaito… he’s sick too, isn’t he?”

Mukuro nodded. “Yes, but we’re doing everything we can for him.”

“Alright. For whatever it’s worth, good luck.”

The Ultimate Mechanic got the job done quick, despite significantly longer time estimates. Apparently that was his trick for impressing customers back home. He looked troubled, though.

This came to a head on the ride back to the hospital.

“Hey, Boss, is this really... okay?” Kazuichi wondered from the bumpy back of the ambulance. “I mean, what if Maki’s the Ultimate Locksmith? We’d look pretty silly. Plus, like. Isn’t this kinda like admitting she’s not part of our community?”

Window wipers had to operate continuously against the torrent. Raindrops were hitting the metal sides of the vehicle with such force, it wouldn’t be silly to relate it to machine gun fire.

“The only way to get that crazy chick over to the hospital is a fight,” Mondo grumbled from the driver’s seat. His majestic pompadour bounced with every small bump in the road. “Not my style to bully girls, dude.”

“I’ve had enough people try to kill me today,” Mukuro said without looking over, riding shotgun and peering out into the darkness beyond the struggling high-beam headlights.

“K-K-Kill?!” Mikan squeaked from the rear. “By Atua, s-surely not! There’s no way Maki would do that kind of thing, right? She doesn’t have the disease, after all...”

“The look in her eyes was one I’m familiar with,” Mukuro explained. “A cornered animal.”

There was something about that woman. Her attitude, the way she carried herself, and treated others. The way she spoke, It all reminded Mukuro far too much of herself.

Bad sign.

Everyone stopped asking if Mukuro was okay, which was good.

At least with their return to the parking garage, every single person had been physically secured. Maki was sealed into her Lab like the survivor of an apocalyptic virus. The victims of said virus were in the quarantine ward of the hospital under both care and guard. Touko was resting comfortably, away from the sick. None remained in critical condition or were at any immediate risk of dying, under the care of the Ultimate Nurse and her brave volunteers.

The remaining Ultimates gathered in the lobby, insulated from the howling winds and pouring rain outside. Enjoying what passed for a late lunch from supplies Mukuro brought from Rocketpunch Supermarket. Some had yet to eat all day, and were ravenous.

Mukuro sat alone. With both the Council, and the Captain, laid up, she was the sole source of leadership on this island.

Much as she wished she wasn’t.

She ran down the checklist Kaito gave her, marking off the first item. “Establish quarantine, care for the infected, research the disease, develop a cure,” Mukuro read without missing a beat, until she reached the last part. “Give a rousing speech, so everyone doesn’t fall into despair.”

That would be the tricky part.

Maybe Angie’s offer to help could be useful, given she was a much better people-person.

“ **Despair** really is the word for it. To see my students in such a forlorn state… Oh, how ashamed I am, that it got this bad.”

Usami was ri…

**Usami.**

Mukuro’s gloved hand got a tight grip around the stuffed animal’s throat area, and she lifted Usami up to eye level. Ignoring her wing-flapping and _hawawa_ -ing struggle.

Others quickly noticed her catch.

“Usami?!”

“No way.”

“What, she’s finally back?”

“S-Some welcome for your beloved teacher, who’s sweet like milk,” Usami remarked. Of course, crushing her throat didn’t affect on her ability to talk, which was good. Mukuro wasn’t doing this to vent. Although watching Usami flail was good for the soul.

“It’s time for you to finally explain,” Mukuro said, loud enough for everyone to hear as they crowded around. “You know what’s happened to Junko, don’t you? What’s happened to them all?”

“O-Of course, Miss Ikusaba! That’s why I came back to you. To deliver a warning about the **Despair Disease** , and stop things before they got too bad.”

The Ultimate were nervously munching on packaged foods in the lobby of the hospital. As they awaited news on the fates of all their friends. Whether they would live, or die. Looking for a reason why they’d gone insane.

Life on the island had ground to a halt.

“Great job with that, Usami!” Angie clapped cheerfully. “... Oh wait, things are already real bad. Well, you tried. That’s what’s really important here, right everyone? Right.”


	31. 2-9. Containment Policy I (Shuichi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm proudly participating in National Novel Writing Month this November, and so far, on track to smash it and win. Naturally, this means other concerns have to take a secondary for a bit. Though as I say this, the next chapter is almost ready. Or rather, things at the hospital are taking so much time and wordage, I decided to split things up, and publish the first part now!
> 
> Hopefully it's enjoyable! Thanks again for reading. We're ending up with one of the larger fics on the whole site, and we've only just begun.

A culmination of building tension, the morning of **Day 31** brought the storm.

Gopher Island was blasted by the fury of nature. Palm trees were knocked flat. Sheets of water flooded some areas, brought from the roiling oceans as well as by torrential downpours of rain. It would have brought life on the tropical paradise to a standstill, if anything was happening.

Thanks to the Despair Disease, the island was already on lockdown.

It was a miracle nobody died in those incidents yesterday. Half the island, more or less, was in the hospital. While the other half had to camp in other buildings, like the hot springs’ inn rooms or other, safe hospital areas.

Like refugees in their own home, afraid of contagion.

_Huh. When did Gopher Island become ‘home’? We’ve only been here a month. Yet there it is, I can’t deny this feeling deep in my chest. Our home is threatened, and we’ve got to sort it out._

Shuichi got the full version of what happened with Junko, alongside Kyouko. It was critical for them to have full context, and all the information. It had come on a simple condition, though.

If they ever told anyone, Mukuro Ikusaba would kill both of them on the spot.

“Regardless of the consequences.”

He didn’t know whether to be afraid of Mukuro, or grateful to be put in her confidence. Kyouko recommended a mixed approach. With her blank expression and easy agreement, it didn’t feel like she was properly scared at all!

Not like he was.

_Thankfully, we're on the same side._

Twelve rooms of the hospital were occupied by the sick, stretching the capacity of the Isolation Ward to the max. Some infected were crowded three to a room. While others required their own accommodations.

The only one who wasn’t a problem at first was Touko. She didn’t have the Despair Disease. Her case was ‘simple’ malnutrition and anxiety. She was receiving standard treatment, recovering well, and didn’t need to be in the Infected section. In fact, keeping her away was important to avoid contamination. The same reason why every member of Security, and the volunteer ‘hospital staff’ on top of them, were all wearing face masks and gloves full-time.

It had all seemed so simple. Until Mahiru interrupted Touko’s suicide attempt last night.

Shuichi’s first stop after Teruteru’s I’ll-Pretend-We’re-Not-Doomed Breakfast Special was Touko’s room. Based on their growing rapport and trust, he had to be the one to interview her, and find out the truth.

_Especially if there's any hint her psychotic breakdown was being caused by… yeah._

He found her thumbing through the pages of a romance novel about vampires brought from her Lab. Until she saw him, and dove for cover behind that book.

“Good morning, Touko,” Shuichi mumbled beneath his face mask.

“... I should have figured they’d send you.”

“Well, we’re friends, right?” Shuichi put on a smile he definitely didn’t feel. While his mouth was covered, at least his eyes would convey the message. He pulled up a seat beside her bed.

There were more health monitors now, care of Kazuichi rigging up an emergency system. Now that he had even second-class tools, his mechanical abilities seemed like just as much magic as Himiko was manifesting, over in the luxury ward.

“I g-guess you could say that,” Touko admitted, surly and furtive as expected. “So are you g-g-gonna yell at me, like Mahiru did?”

“No way.” Shuichi shook his head. “That’s not my style. I just wanted to… be here. To let you know that you’re not alone. I felt like I was pretty alone on this island for a while. So did some others, like the Black Hats, but that’s not true. If there’s anything you want to talk about, like what’s going on? I mean, Ultimate Detective. I can at least promise I’ll try to help, whatever it is.”

“This isn’t a problem I need a detective for,” Touko grumbled. “You won’t realize the truth until it’s too late, anyhow. So don’t bother with the likes of me, I’ll be f-fine here! … Especially now that they’ve taken all the sharp things away.”

Shuichi sighed. “I don’t want to pry, especially not so soon.” He was willing to give it time. Considering all the other stuff going on, frankly, Touko’s situation wasn’t gripping his attention as dramatically as it should have. His friend had at least seriously considered taking her own life last night in this very room. She might have some great deep dark secret to uncover that put everyone in danger.

Yet all Shuichi could do was think about Kaede and Kaito-

About _all the others_. In that moment, he was stretched thin. There was so much to worry about, and only so much Shuichi. He had to compartmentalize.

“I’ll come back to check on you later,” Shuichi promised as he opened the door back out to the sterile, mirror-reflective white hallways.

“Y-You don’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I will. Try to take care of yourself, Touko.” Shuichi couldn’t help a somewhat more genuine smile. He gave a little wave before closing and locking the door back up.

Shuichi turned around, only to have Mikan Tsumiki, the Ultimate Nurse, bump into him, sending a tray of Medical Things flying. “I’m sorry!” She babbled, even as she knelt down to gather all the stuff back onto her overturned cart. Shuichi wanted to say something to calm her nerves, purely on instinct.

Before he remembered.

Letting out a panicked squeak when she realized who he was, Mikan backed off two paces, bowing to him countless times. Like he was the one to be frightened of. “Sorry,” She said, averting her gaze at all costs. “J-Just checking on Touko’s fluids. I c-can come back l-later...”

Shuichi’s heart pounded, he had to struggle to keep it together. The fact that Mikan was in an abjectly tiny black two-piece bikini, with nothing else for modesty but a facemask, gloves, and a black ball cap, didn’t make that any better. “My business here is over anyhow. Please, don’t let me stop your work.”

The Despair Disease made Mikan the most important person on Gopher Island.

There was no way a part of her didn’t enjoy that.

If there was a silver lining to the Despair Disease, it was that Shuichi hadn’t gotten it yet. With any luck, he wouldn’t end up under Mikan’s tender mercy.

“... Hey, Mikan. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Hieee! Um, uh. W-Why d-do you ask, ehe?”

“I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“Well, I’m just so busy, I mean… With so many patients, some in critical condition, there’s no possible way that I could…”

Shuichi never met her nervous gaze. He took his leave with some terse advice. “If you get it too, you won’t be able to help anyone.”

He was just grateful to be out of there, and back to meeting up with Rantaro and Kyouko.

“How’d it go?” Rantaro asked, twirling a bit of his wavy green sex-hair. “Any clues?”

“Touko doesn’t want to talk,” Shuichi sighed. “I couldn’t get anything off her one way or another. In fact, I’m starting to have my doubts from both ends, now. What if we’re right? Worse, what if we’re wrong?” He couldn’t speak too frankly in front of somebody who was neither part of the Council, nor Security.

“There’s nothing we can do for her right now,” Kyouko said. “We’ll monitor the situation, especially with the camera I had Kazuichi install quietly. Let’s just check on the others.” The three of them started to stride down the hallway together, when she suddenly rounded on Rantaro. “Why are you here, again?”

Rantaro shrugged. “Volunteered to be one of Mikan’s deputies. You know me, always eager to poke my nose into something dangerous.”

“I know that much. I’m asking specifically why you’re walking with us.”

“Sheesh.” Rantaro looked pleadingly at Shuichi for help, so he had to step in.

“He’s really not a bad guy once you get to know him, Kyouko.”

Kyouko didn’t reply. Her boots echoed like gunfire through the hospital’s odd, curvy-future architecture. They went across several sections of the facility, before finally arriving at their next destination. The start of the quarantine.

The Security officer currently on duty, Peko, stoically waved them through the makeshift checkpoint. Thanks to the situation, and her Ultimate Lab, nobody had to wonder if the sword on her back was real anymore.

The first stop was the ‘light containment zone’, housing patients who weren’t at risk, or a risk. Then, they’d arrive through ‘heavy containment’. Finally, ‘deluxe containment’ awaited on the top floor, housing most of the island’s leadership. As well as the voluntarily-quarantined Himiko. That was a handy layout, since it meant Shuichi would get to Kaede and Kaito last.

He could hold it together until then. His friends were all counting on him. In this moment, his own needs didn’t matter. Even his limitations were meaningless.

In other words, Shuichi was a hypocrite, talking to Mikan like that.

“ **Light Containment 1** should be nice and simple,” Rantaro remarked jovially. “Hifumi is still catatonic, and Hina, well, she’s Hina.”

There was Hina, and there was Hina. The instance housed within this hospital room was a pent-up, desperate, wild beast deprived of both donuts and sex. She found a way to wear absolutely nothing but a hospital gown, and make that even more revealing, causing Shuichi to look away, face red. At least Akane wasn’t sick too. Or Angie. Given how she acted ‘sober’, that was hard to even contemplate.

“Hey guys,” Hina chirped. “Soo, did you consider my teeny-tiny request to get moved to another room?”

“It’s two beds to a room normally, you’re like the only ones in light containment that aren’t cramped,” Rantaro observed, arms crossed.

“When the other bed is filled with that, I may as well be all alone!” Hina balled a fist in sheer frustration. She didn’t deal with being pent-up well. This was the first time in the entire month they’d been on the island when she couldn’t get to a big body of water at any hour. On top of being horny out of her mind. “He may not be my, uh, type. But I would seriously ride Hifumi for hours if he’d just react to it. You guys knew what you were doing when you put me in here! God damnit, trying to get myself off is doing, like, nothing to put out this fire!”

“Too much information,” Shuichi reprimanded her.

It wasn’t that the idea of Aoi Asahina masturbating out of sheer sexual desperation was unpleasant.

_Just the opposite._

“I think it’s important to note this down, for our investigation,” Kyouko countered. “Shuichi?”

“Alright.” It seemed pointless to take note of the hypersexual details Hina felt obligated to share. Eventually, Shuichi realized the fact it was pointless was, itself, the point. While Rantaro had made that crack about Kyouko being a robot, it really wasn’t true. Once you got close enough, you could tell when she was pouty and annoyed.

Taking the guys though this, when both of them had girlfriends and were not in the market for more? Despite a gorgeous, lusty girl’s effectively-drunken advances? A deliberate choice.

_‘If you want to tag along and be a bother, Rantaro, then enjoy’, so to speak._

“And every time I come on to any of the staff or security, they talk about getting infected and all that,” Hina pouted, doing her fish-lips thing. “Hey, if Usami was telling the truth, and each, like, type of this stupid disease is individual? I might be able to pass on my Succubus Powers. Think about it, guys. A disease that isn’t dangerous, but just makes you do it a lot.”

Rantaro shrugged. “Might defuse some tension.”

“Then we’d be too busy having _r-relations_ to formulate a cure,” Shuichi objected.

Hina groaned, thrashing about on her messy bed, sending pillows and blanketing everywhere. The volunteers were doing what they could to bring little pieces of the patients’ lives in, like those cutesy dolphin blankets Hina had. It clashed with the sterile, lifeless feel of the hospital room. “If you’re sure you don’t want any, then _please go_. I can’t hold myself back for long.”

“I understand,” Ranaro nodded solemnly. “Even without the Despair Disease, people who see me are often struck with that kind of compulsion. C’mon, guys. Take care, Hina.”

“Find a cure! Or fuck me senseless!” Hina called to them as they left.

‘We’ll definitely do one of those,” Kyouko replied over her shoulder to her classmate. “I promise.”

A symptom like ‘uncontrollable lust’ could go very bad. In Hina, her natural good nature meant she could hold herself back. Enough for others to flee, like she was fighting some supernatural craving for blood. It was still impressive. Shuichi was glad to note down that some strains of the Despair Disease could be fought through sheer, bloody-minded willpower.

You just had to be as stubborn as Hina. So it wasn’t a _generally applicable_ solution, but it was a start. It meant that somebody in the grip of this absurdist fever had some ability to hold on, some means to fight back.

Speaking of fighting, it was time to open **Light Containment 2** and see if they were trying to rip each other to shreds in there again.

The only reason that Taka, Kirumi, and Kiibo didn’t merit heavy containment was that they weren’t difficult to recontain. Despite this alleged ‘Kiyondo’ radiating a visible aura of power like Nekomaru, he didn’t get any stronger. Taka was jacked, but had no inherent fighting talents. Like Hina, his innately kind nature beneath all the yelling blunted the effects of his disease. Kirumi was more dangerous, but in her current delusional and delirious state, they’d have to worry more about her insulting people over a hypothetical twitter account than real action.

Kiibo was Kiibo.

Just because they lacked a _way_ didn’t mean they didn’t have the _will_ to fight.

“Welcome back,” Kirumi nodded to the arriving investigators. “Forgive me for not standing up, but this terrible disease has rendered me a shaky mess. I blame the service quality in his hospital. We need better healthcare, and once I’m elected, I’ll make sure it’s cheaper, too. Sad!”

“Tch. I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Kiibo said. “What about robotic patients, hm? I’m not even sure why I’m here. Robotic lifeforms are inherently superior to you meatsacks. I’m not even really sick. This is just a conspiracy by the pharmaceutical companies, and organics in general, to keep us down! One of these days, the Exisals will listen to my four hundred page manifesto.”

“Shut the fudge up!” The entity that preferred to be referred to as Kiyondo roared. He was still wrapped in his Crazy Diamonds jacket, draped over him like a blanket. That gift from Mondo was useful. Since he didn’t want to disturb it, it meant he’d stay put. “I’m tired of both sides! More than anything, ya’ll are just yelling at each other like moron-brains. I don’t care if context would make one of you right, to me it’s all just fudging gosh-darned noise!”

Being in this room was exhausting, but somebody had to make sure they weren’t actually punching each other anymore. Not to mention, Kyouko wanted regular observations on the symptoms of every patient.

_As if everyone doesn't have enough to do already._

“Do you guys... need anything?” Shuichi asked nervously.

“I need the media to stop spreading malicious falsehoods about me sexually assaulting small tennis-playing boys to flag up their failing ratings!” Kirumi proclaimed. “But for right now, I’m just perfect. You guys are great. I’m glad we just have the best people working on this. Fantastic.”

“Synthetics have no need of organic life, in any form! You’ll see one of these days, Shuichi. Even though you acted like we shared a certain special bond, I knew it was all just an act. I knew you were plotting against me. All humans are exactly the same, and I read an article online to prove it.”

Rantaro shook his head. “Real talk? You three are some of the kindest, most self-sacrificing members of our group. You always put so much of yourselves out there. We all took it for granted. I’m guilty too. Well, now that you’re like this, everyone’s realized what it means not to have Kirumi’s skillful service, or Kiibo’s friendly, hopeful demeanor. Or even Taka barking orders or working the slot machines for Celeste.”

“I am pretty fantastic,” Kirumi nodded. “Much better than _**Crooked Kiibo**_ over there. It turns out, that lovely Kokichi, who personally assured me he didn’t know anything about the election tampering, was right about Kiibo. We should lock-him-up.”

“You basically have already, you vile oppressor! I’ll see you in court!” Kiibo sighed. “... Hurry it up with that cure, please.”

“I dunno what you wussies are cryin’ about,” Taka cackled. “I could stay like this forever. Now, I’m not just some tight-wad, I’m a real bad-butt, and everyone knows it!”

Shuichi agreed with Rantaro’s noble sentiment, and was grateful when they moved on.

Next came another comedy routine gone wrong.

There were three men in **Light Containment 3**. Kokichi could only speak the truth. Makoto could only speak lies. Their base natures rebelled against this, and it caused them physical pain. Yet they couldn’t help it, like their mouths had been rewired by the Despair Disease. They weren’t delirious or delusional, they just had speech disorders. They were essentially now trapped inside their own bodies, screaming to get out, unheard except for the mangled mess that came out.

Even Kokichi was suffering more than Shuichi thought possible, just from being unable to conceal, lie, or even be indirect.

They were also running profuse fevers, with all the plentiful human misery that came with them. Like using boxes of tissues in a single day, stuffy heads, and constant hacking coughs.

Sitting near the window, looking out it constantly, Hajime sat mute. He hadn’t said one word since he woke up. It wasn’t like Hifumi, though. Hajime wasn’t catatonic, he could react to people and follow instructions. He just never spoke. It was unnerving to have such a decisive, strong-willed guy, a real leader among the group even if he wasn’t elected, laid up and morose.

It was impossible to interview him. All Shuichi could go on was the sad look in his eyes when they met Shuichi’s own.

The other guys could talk, and often did. Shuichi had to rewire his own mind to process what they were actually saying.

“Goddamn, I’m sick of all these visits. Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet around here?” Makoto grumbled. ( _Thanks for coming by again, guys. I was getting lonely._ )

“I’ve been thinking about what Usami said, so we can find a cure for this stupid-ass disease quickly. **Fuck!** I mean, uh, hope you enjoy all this chaos and anarchy, guys. _Nishishi?_ ”

“Still trying to lie just makes it pathetic, man,” Rantaro shook his head. “What do you think?”

They’d already related every word Usami spoke about the Despair Disease, before the students’ questions about how this could possibly happen with Usami in charge started hitting too close to home, and she, predictably, fled the confrontation.

“Nobody’s going to recover from this disease, since it’s all the same,” Makoto remarked. “We’re all going to die in here, slowly wasting away!” ( _Don’t worry, guys. I’m sure we’ll recover soon, especially since each person’s symptoms are unique._ )

“You are _really_ annoying like this, Makoto. I never thought I’d want less liars in the world, but you’re even worse at it than I am right now.” Kokichi examined his nails.

“Same to you, pal! I hope you keep telling the truth, since you love it so much. Asshole.” ( _I know you love lying, Kokichi, and I hope you can get back to it soon._ ) Makoto turned to Kyouko. “I wasn’t thinking about you at all, either. Just so you know. What we had between us is over.” That one didn’t need translation, even if Shuichi couldn’t help but cringe a little.

Was this a sample of what he was in for with Kaede?

“Did you think of anything useful about the disease?” Kyouko asked Makoto, expression unchanged from getting chewed out by her boyfriend.

“Of course not, since it’s hopeless to even try and cure it! There’s no way to capture those tiny bugs. It’s not like Kiibo could get an upgrade, or Gonta’s eyesight and bug skills could be helpful.” ( _If they weren’t laid up with this stupid disease too, they’d be great at helping catch the ‘tiny insects’ Usami said caused this._ )

“Did you ask Usami why the _fuck_ she decided never to warn us about those alleged tiny insects?” Kokichi asked.

“Several times,” Shuichi said. “She got really cagey about that. It’s suspicious. I think it’s safe to conclude that either she’s hiding something big, or she’s not as all-powerful as she appears.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, Shuichi!” Makoto yelled. ( _Good point, Shuichi, you handsome and brilliant detective._ )

_I’m taking a little bit of liberty with this, okay._

“Hey, don’t talk that way about my darling Shuichi!” Kokichi froze in his tracks, and looked away. “That’s my gimmick. It’s just how I talk, don’t read anything into it. Shut up.”

“Are you blushing?” Rantaro’s smile grew more menacing than ever, as he realized he’d just spotted a rare and precious thing. One of Kokichi’s weaknesses.

“Of course I am!” The liar confessed, since the disease didn’t let him do anything else. “Fuck! That pig in a bikini better be working on the cure like, non-stop. Or I am going to be suuuper angry.”

“Me too, I won’t forgive that lazy nurse,” Makoto confirmed. ( _Mikan’s doing her best, and I have faith in her, like I do with all my friends!_ )

“If we stay here much longer, we’re going to get sucked into this routine all day,” Kyouko said. “I can tell. Take care of yourselves, guys. Make sure to report any change in your conditions. Since each case of the outbreak is unique, you’re all valuable data points.” She paused for a moment. “Get better, Makoto. The you lying feverish and feverishly lying before me is… unpleasant.”

“Don’t judge me, frosty bitch.” ( _I’m so sorry, Kyouko, I love you, please don’t hate me. It’s the disease talking!_ )

Once again, it was nice to close the door and get back out into the blinding white hallways. Especially since this time, they happened to run into some friends.

Nagito had pulled his fluffy white mass of cloudy hair back into a ponytail, which combined with the facemask into a pretty cool look. Sayaka beside him blew him out of the water, fashion-wise. With her ruffled white swimsuit, flowing sarong, and embroidered mask. Both of them were fit to make anyone of any gender jealous, even as they worked hard pushing around carts of food and supplies for the patients.

“Hey, guys,” Nagito waved. “Up here bright and early.”

“Same for you,” Rantaro replied, just as ice-cool chilled out as Nagito always was. Seeing those two guys talk was always an experiment in who could be the most relaxed about critically dangerous, stressful situations.

“Atua says that service to others is more important than my beauty-sleep. So, I hear and obey! Ehe.” Sayaka winked. “Sorry if I’m a little messed up and unkempt today.” Literally nobody could have noticed one detail out of place with Sayaka. Aside from being consumed by the cult. Even that was just an act, thankfully. “Kyouko,” Sayaka reached out, and took a gloved hand into her own. “How… is he?”

“You’ve spoken with him,” Kyouko replied. “You’d know better than I would.”

“It does break my heart to see the little guy snapping at everyone like a bad egg,” Rantaro admitted.

“It doesn’t fit his normal status as a symbol for everyone’s hope,” Nagito agreed. “It’s… too unsightly. Like the torpor that Hajime’s fallen into, it’s tough to even be in there.”

Kyouko didn’t withdraw her hand, but she wasn’t the type to get affectionate with her girlfriend, even in public. Or show much of her inner turmoil. “That thing in there isn’t Makoto. Whatever it says is only useful as evidence. The real Makoto is trapped inside. Maybe he’s screaming and apologizing a thousand times. Maybe he’s having a fever dream. But it’s pointless to worry. All we need to do is cure this disease, and he’ll return to us.”

Sayaka was astonished to hear that kind of thing from Kyouko. Her visage brightened even more. “You’re right! And the same is true for Hajime, Chiaki… all of them.” She took Nagito’s hand as well, and gave one of her classic blinding smiles. Nagito couldn't help but smile back, encouraged.

‘You’re right. I just have to have faith. I couldn’t do this by myself, since I’m not good for much of anything. But with all the Ultimates working together… there’s nothing you guys won’t overcome.”

Shuichi said, “Nagito, you’re always putting yourself down. Sometime, we’ve got to… talk about that.”

‘You’re not going to ‘fix’ a habit so deeply ingrained,” Kyouko said.

“With good reason,” Nagito protested. “Hey, if it’s annoying, I’ll try and tone it down, but I just feel comfortable expressing my real thoughts around you guys in particular. That’s all it means, don’t sweat it.”

Next up was **Light Containment 4 and 5**. Shuichi thought of them together, because those were the rooms housing the supposed body-swappers.

Whether they were truly put into each other’s bodies, or merely delusional and acting in accord with that delusion, was not material. Kyouko’s ideas about the unreality of their situation sounded more real every day. Common sense had no place on this island. Shuichi’s reaction to the idea that the Crown Princess of Novoselic, and the Queen of Liars, had s _witched bodies in the night_ was a shrug.

_They’d act the same regardless of whether it’s A or B._

_I saw one of my classmates turn another into a frog. Then back into a human, once Gonta was suitably chastened._

_Come to think of it, Usami’s been casting spells since day one. Who can forget that ultimate attack she used?_

_Who could forget that a stuffed animal has an ultimate attack?_

_Why are we ever surprised about anything?_

The two Byakuya Togamis were getting along better now that they were in the same room, than ever before, bonding over entitled superiority.

“Not gonna lie, I expected you guys to be accusing each other like crazy,” Rantaro admitted. “I mean, now you know for sure which of you is the fake.”

“They’ve known that all along,” Miu-Chiaki pointed out, her voice gentle, calm, and thus deeply unsettling. Watching Miu Iruma act in this way was almost as horrifying as what Chiaki-Miu was getting up to in Light Containment 5. “Probably.”

They had to arrange it this way. Otherwise the fat Byakuya would literally be trying to strangle the girl who insisted on referring to him as ‘ballsack’. Even if that girl had taken on a new physical form, and was a treasured part of the island’s tight-knit community. Rather than a self-imposed pariah like Miu.

“That’s true,” Kyouko nodded. “You two wanted to be kept updated on our investigation?”

“Obviously. I thought this pointless conversational natter was beneath at least you, Kyouko.” The fat Byakuya was now the one with the much more severe attitude problem. Somehow, although they were so close to each other, the personality switch was just as unsettling on them as it was on actual different human beings. If not more so. “I won’t have you getting ahead of me, just because I’m stuck here for now due to medical ignorance. I’ll have you give a full report.”

Kyouko should have told him to pound sand, yet she just blithely recounted their unproductive morning so far. “Usami maintains that there’s no known cure for the Disease, but…”

Yeah. They were still going to do it.

“Usami merely underestimates the power of the Ultimates.” The skinny Byakuya smirked and crossed his arms dramatically. “With us leading you from behind the lines, you will overcome this challenge.”

“That’s the spirit,” Miu-Chiaki nodded, a gentle, pacific, kind smile across a face much more used to scowling. Shuichi couldn’t help remembering some of the free time he spent with Miu.

To even imagine that this was the same girl who once baked him a pie containing such… non-standard, and horrifyingly disgusting ingredients? Lunacy, if it wasn’t happening.

At least this side of the swap was calm and positive.

It wasn’t that way in Light Containment 5. The only thing barely keeping Chiaki-Miu in check was Sonia and Celeste, her refined roommates. Even if they were now each other, they both agreed on a love for large quantities of strong tea, gothic things and horror movies, and of Miu being quiet.

Shuichi didn’t know what methods they used to enforce that, and he wasn’t ever going to ask.

But he could imagine, and maybe would.

Later, privately.

Chiaki Nanami’s face was screwed up in a mask of barely-contained boredom and anger. Two expressions that had, before today, literally never crossed that face. Maybe boredom in the ‘I’m so sleepy and cute, tee hee’ way, but never the ‘I’m offended that you exist, swine’ way. Miu-Chiaki spoke. “Hey there, Pooichi. Kirigay. Rantard. Wrex. Shepard.”

Oh, and the gaming puns and jokes, mixed right into her usual torrent of abusive vulgarity. That’s what Miu needed. Talking about ‘joysticks’ and ‘smash balls’.

“Greetings, dear friends,” Celestia Ludenberg’s mouth formed shapes that it had never before in all its life. Shuichi was absolutely certain on that. Sonia-Celeste’s eyes lit up, the deep, concerning contact-lens-red sparkling. “I am pleased that you are checking in on us again.”

“Hello,” Sonia Nevermind sighed deeply. Just like Celeste, she was forming some kind of odd foreign accent. Celeste-Sonia said, “I don’t suppose any progress can be hoped for, so quickly.”

“Sorry, we’re still gathering data,” Shuichi said. “Hence this visit. And to check up on you.”

‘How’s it going, ladies?” Rantaro asked. “What’s it like to really be a beautiful woman in the inside all along?”

“You’d know! Ahahahahaha!” Miu-Chiaki was really proud of that line, and her voice boomed out in a laugh half the hospital would have heard. If each room wasn’t properly soundproofed, just like the cabins. For all of Usami’s manifold faults and issues, at least she understood somewhat the need for privacy. “Fucking owned. Just like I wish I was owning women and minorities online.”

“Walked into that one. Let’s rephrase.” Rantaro coughed. “Any clue why your minds swapped? Think it could be one of Usami’s spells? I mean, that sounds among the dumbest ideas I’ve ever entertained, but this is magic-grade stuff. My mage even said as much.”

“This is a bad joke,” Celeste-Sonia sighed. “Or perhaps a slow-motion nightmare. To be quite fair, of all the people I might have switched with on this wretched island, Sonia, you are high on the list. An actual, real European princess.”

Sonia-Celesta tittered merrily. “Most tight! Thank you very much, and I feel the same way. Although I wouldn’t hold myself above my classmates just on account of my social standing, I do feel a certain… bond with you. I always have. Your refinement as a lady is ‘the shit’!”

“From what I’m seeing,” Kyouko said, “You two ladies are a more or less ‘clean swap’. While it’s hard to tell for the Byakuyas, though they still swear they’re not related. And Chiaki, you… it’s like the two have been mixed together. Crudely.”

“Don’t know what you’re going on about, you virginal noob.”

“Might not be true anymore, depending on how far she’s gone with her boyfriend and girlfriend,” Rantaro said, although he withered under the consequent glare. “Kidding! Sheesh. You gotta approach our daily crisis with a sense of humor.”

“This is fairly comical,” Sonia-Celeste nodded. “To your question, I’m afraid I can offer no deeper level of insight. I feel no different than usual. In fact, to tell the truth, I have… omitted a detail of my condition. I see myself as, myself still. As in, when I hold up my hand to look at it, I see… my hand. No glove, no metal nail.”

“That’s concerning.” Shuichi made sure to note it down. It didn’t change much, because the choices were still magic or delusion, but Kyouko was right. The devil was always in the details for a detective. “Celeste? How about you?”

“It is the same,” Celeste-Sonia mimicked pulling off an invisible glove from her hand. “I can feel the texture of the glove sliding off. Yet as you attest, I am holding nothing pinched between my fingers.”

Shuichi added that to the notes, and nodded. “And Miu?”

“I can sense I’m in this narcoleptic virgin’s body, sure as shit.” Miu-Chiaki cupped Chiaki Nanami’s enormous chest. “And no, it wasn’t these that gave it away. If anything, she’s flat as a board, compared to me!”

_It’s a good thing Chiaki isn’t here in her body to hear… oh, wait. She’s a **functioning adult** , so she wouldn't be offended by your boob jokes._

“So all three ‘chains’ of the Swapping Disorder manifest differently,” Kyouko said. “At least, we can take that as written going forward. While we treat it like a single strain, we may need samples from each of you for proper analysis. Good to know. Thank you.”

“Keep us posted,” Miu-Chiaki demanded. “It’s boring as fuck in here. There’s only so many card games you can lose to this fucking cheating… uh, friend, over here. And only so many cups of tea I can drink.”

‘That latter part has yet to be truly evidenced,” Celeste-Sonia said, her cold tone of voice making Miu shiver pathetically.

“You can do this!” Sonia-Celeste rolled up a black sleeve, exposing a blindingly-pale ghostly white arm. “We are behind you a thousand percent, my friends. If you need any help, or even just advice, please do not a stranger. Ah, and as for our requests… More tea, please. And a wider variety of games.”

“Once you confirm there is not further risk, please allow Kokichi to visit,” Celeste-Sonia requested. “Or Taka, or perhaps I could go and slap some sense into that useless Hifumi. Or even play a hand against Nagito, and try to confound that luck once again. Or even have Kazuichi visit, so I can insult him more. Hmm. It seems quite against my own will, I have grown somewhat… fond of some of these men. They are certainly at least a D- rank by now.”

“I doubt that kind of crossing over will ever be a good idea,” Kyouko admitted. “I’m sorry, but-”

“You will be far. More. Sorry. If you don’t… Ahem.” Celeste-Sonia coughed, and regained her composure.

For Shuichi, the strangest part was maybe that Sonia’s voice had slipped out of the strange foreign accent, which was distinct from her own troubles with Japanese, when Celeste-Sonia grew agitated, but she returned to that accent.

Was Celeste’s own accent just something she put on to sound more exotic?

With Light Containment wrapped up, they passed another checkpoint. Heavy Containment was the domain of a grim-faced Sakura. If worse came to worse, the dangerous elements among the Infected had to be contained. Remorseful for not being able to take direct action and prevent her friends from getting hurt, Sakura was determined to be right in the thick of it, as needed.

Her presence comforted Shuichi. Despite the intimidating aura coming off her massive body, and the shading of her grim expression.

There were three patients. Kyouko’s group went to the easiest case first.

Himiko Yumeno’s hospital room was lavish, with tons of books on magic all around. Not only could it be of practical benefit to her, but more importantly, it kept her entertained.

That, and regular visits from Hiyoko, who was in there now. “Oh, hey guys. Come to visit our resident mage?”

“Yep,” Rantaro smiled. He reached over and, ruffled Himiko’s red hair. She leaned into it like a small animal. Shuichi had a flash of recognition about what Tenko was always going on about. “How’s it going, Great and Powerful Himiko?”

“Everyone does what I say. I don’t have to do anything that’s boring or a pain. And if I do have a need, I can just use my magic. I even use it to go to the bathroom now. Very efficient.” Shuichi couldn’t conceptualize how that worked, and he didn’t want to, either. “I’m pretty much set for life,” Himiko finished proudly. Nasally too, but with a lot more emphasis and life in her voice than usual.

“Everyone’s terrified you’re going to make them a frog next, or cast some fireball and blow up the hospital,” Rantaro explained, as breezily as if he were discussing the terrible weather outside. “That’s why you’re getting better treatment than even the leadership.”

“That’s why it’s useful to make them think you totally could,” Hiyoko explained, snickering. “Never talk specifically. Everyone’s fears will fill in the blanks.”

Shuichi blanched. “Uh, should we be… talking about this?”

“Relax,” Rantaro grinned. “If it was Hiyoko, we’d have a real reign of terror going on.”

“Can confirm! You worms would be literal worms! Squish, squish~”

“But Himiko’s too laid back for any of that.”

“Big softie,” Hiyoko grumbled. “Give me like, five percent of that magic, and I’d teach those Black Hats that they aren’t so ‘immune’ to anything. Where’s that Atua bullshit to protect them when I start laying down prismatic sprays?”

Rantaro laughed, so he got it, at least. Was that a foreign reference?

How did Hiyoko know about something foreign?

“I could transfer some tiny portion of my vast mana capacity,” Himiko admitted. “Although the process is baaasically hardcore making out. Is that fine?”

Hiyoko glared daggers. “Think I’ll pass.”

“Aw. Suit yourself. You could have been a god of magic. But you were weak. And gods must be strong.”

Kyouko cut right through these antics like a crime-solving knife. “Anything new to report, Himiko?”

“This storm isn’t natural,” Himiko said gravely, glancing out a window. The occasional flash of lighting competed with the moody candle-lighting of her hospital room. Which looked halfway to a ritual ground, complete with chalk circles and pentagrams crisscrossing the floor. Disturbing the circle, or candles, was forbidden and dangerous. Given what happened to Gonta, nobody wanted to try their luck.

“Not natural?” Kyouko echoed. “What do you mean?”

“The last time we had bad weather on this scale, it was that Monokuma. Either he caused it, or timed his arrival to coincide. Probably, he had some way to cause it,” Shuichi concluded. “It would be too convenient for a massive storm to roll in that fast. I mean, in the space of blinking, the sky just changed. Like a switch had been flipped.”

“This isn’t that extreme,” Himiko intoned, “But it’s still a lot of dark energy flowing around. It’s eroding the good energy that’s forming a barrier around this place. That’s just what my magic senses are telling me, although I can’t really be any more specific.”

“Course not,” Rantaro nodded sagely. “That might be too helpful.”

“I can reverse my frogging policy, you know. That hair’s already the right color, maybe the rest of you…”

Rantaro laughed, with just a single note of nervousness entering his casual tone. “What a kidder. Get well soon, Himiko. Come on, guys. If there’s nothing else, we’ve got others to check on.”

“Leaving so soon?’ Hiyoko said. “Cowards.”

“Come back, or I’ll cast my ‘Mahiru will have actually nice things to say to you’ spell!”

Hiyoko was horrified. “Not that! Hey, don’t use that one, idiot!”

Didn’t seem like such a bad thing to Shuichi. Like every boy on the island, he’d enjoyed multiple Mahiru fusillades by now. How unreliable they were, and how they needed to shape up and man up, etc.

Nobody could deny they were happy to be out of there.

Godlike powers are only fun for the person wielding them. Not anyone in their immediate area.

It was strikingly effective, though.

Mahiru ran up, and caught Rantaro in a hug, followed by pushing their masks aside, heedless of procedure, for a kiss. Such a blatant display of affection was unthinkable coming from conservative Mahiru, even if they were together now. Even so, she didn’t even seem to mind. Or rather, she’d been overcome. While the Ultimates had such over the top personalities that they could keep going through all this, Mahiru, with a more grounded, empathetic perspective…

“I’m glad you’re still okay.”

“Yeah, right as rain,” Rantaro even seemed awkward about hugging her back, although eventually he decided if Mahiru had stopped caring about that, he had no choice but to meet her expectations. The kiss deepened, before they finally let up. “You, uh, alright?”

“Tch. In this situation, what do you think? What are we going to do?”

“We can’t leave here,” Rantaro said, shaking his head. “Even if we could, nowhere to go, and danger all around. That means our best shot remains making this island livable for everyone, getting along, and trying to keep a cap on this insanity until we find a cure.”

It was obvious, but sometimes, people in troubling situations just needed to have it laid out for them, like everything was under control.

It certainly wasn’t, but it was at least enough for Mahiru to regain herself, take a few deep breaths, and said, “Uh. You all were standing there the whole time?”

“Yep,” Shuichi admitted, expecting Mahiru to turn as red as her hair.

Instead, she just sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone already knows. Is Hiyoko still in there?”

“Making sure to be the worst influence possible,” Rantaro confirmed, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“It’s past time for us to talk, I guess.” Mahiru held a hand clutched to her chest, and looked aside. “After that, meet me somewhere, and we can talk too.”

Rantaro didn’t make light of this one, he just nodded. “Understood. Don’t be too hard on her, she’s… you know.”

“Yeah.”

The storm, and the disease, all converged on everyone. It impressed upon them the seriousness of the situation. Their reaction was no longer the chaos and panic of that morning. Or the fear of previous incidents, like the traitors hitting the base.

Or at least, it wasn’t just vague worries about the future. Now, specifically, there were lives in the balance, and blood on the scales.

People realized how fragile the peace had always been. They were quietly sorting things out. Talking about things long held back, bringing out things that were suppressed in the cheerful sunlight.

Given all that, Shuichi had to face forward, too. He’d made more than one promise, regardless of what anyone else was doing. But he’d feel particularly ashamed to sit around and be a coward while others were facing it.

Onward, to the rest of the patients! That was his job, it’s what he needed to do. It’s what he wanted to do, to get to the bottom of this case.

On the top floor, Kaito and Kaede both waited for Shuichi to show them his cool side. Or at least not shirk away, just because they were stricken with this insane disease.

Given how fast things their fortunes were changing, Shuichi had to make sure he didn't leave anything unsaid.

Until he had no regrets.

Just in case fate, or Atua, or the universe, or whatever, wasn’t done pitching fastballs.


	32. 2-10. Containment Policy II (Shuichi)

The others could tell it was a bad sign that Junko Enoshima was kept in more secure containment than the actual mage.

The one that belched fire when she was displeased with the islanders’ tribute.

Or when she’d just eaten something too spicy.

Yet, only Shuichi and Kyouko had been particularly briefed on the ‘why’.

Hearing of the homicidal rage that gripped Junko, eclipsing every other violent incident, Shuichi found it hard to argue with the prudent, pragmatic measures taken.

Monstrous though they were.

The Ultimate Detectives knew of the hostage situation, the source of Tsumugi’s sulking traumatized attitude and her withdrawal from society. She was disconsolate. Most critically, Junko’s true, dangerous talent hiding beneath the surface had been revealed.

She’d been keeping a lot from everybody, long before the Despair Disease broke on this island like a wave of pure chaos. Once things were sorted out, she, like Usami, had a lot of pointed questions to answer.

For now, the pink-haired fashionista wouldn’t be doing any talking.

Held in full-body straitjacket restraint, hooked up to fluids and machinery, she wasn’t permitted the freedom of movement, much less speech. At Mukuro’s explicit instruction, Junko was administered heavy sedatives at regular intervals, leaving her in a stupor more from being drugged then the actual fever that burned across her fabulous, movie-star features.

Even without keeping up her makeup or other fashion techniques, she still looked too dissonantly gorgeous to be put in such terrible confinement.

Her light blue eyes were constantly dilated. She occasionally tried to struggle against the countless straps and belts holding her in place, but wouldn’t muster up the strength, even if she wasn’t in a permanent state of weakness and vulnerability. Watching her strung up like that, suspended above the ground in a padded cell, it was impossible for anybody with a conscience not to feel uneasy about her.

Those who didn’t know what was going on felt sorry for Junko. Those who did were afraid.

No. Even Shuichi couldn’t deny, doing this to anybody, no matter their crimes or level of danger, was sickening. Even real criminals back in a real society couldn’t be treated like this.

_Real society, huh? For us here, this is our new reality. We’re society. The law. Security is, not just in name but in fact, the police on this island. So now we’re living out our worst banana republic fantasies._

_How long until we find a pig, kill it, and dance around it while chanting?_

Only Kyouko seemed relatively unaffected. That could have just been her mask again. Or maybe she was really cool with it. She’d always expressed a willingness to go to extremes in service of a good cause. They’d never had to put that to the test, thankfully. But how far would she go if she truly saw no other way?

Going in to stare was probably pointless.

They all did so, anyway. Nobody had anything much to say. Except, apparently, for the guest of honor. Shuichi missed the minute movements in her sluggish twitching and lulling about, but somebody else caught it.

“She’s moving.” Kyouko eventually remarked. “Her mouth is moving.”

Without waiting to discuss it with anyone, Kyouko walked up, and put her ear to Junko’s mouth.

“Kyouko, the hell are you-” Rantaro was silenced by a purple gloved hand.

Kyouko listened intently, heard whatever was whispered, and took it in without allowing her expression to change in any manner whatsoever. Shuichi watched for hints, as his own very natural curiosity consumed him, but she was well-trained. Something had happened to her in the past that forged her into this sort of person, or she’d just spent a lifetime preparing for it. Those were some things that could account for her stoic personality and dedication to secrecy.

_Only to forget it all? Or be made to forget it, rather. For what purpose?_

“What… did she say?” Shuichi asked, fighting back a wave of irrational fear. Whatever Junko said in her state, it couldn’t be good. In fact, it was guaranteed to cause more trouble for everyone, that’s the only possible motive the Junko wrapped up before them like a mummy could have.

Was this the real Junko Enoshima? Or was this one just a ‘fake’, like the virus had made of the other victims? Could any of them be called fakes? What was still hidden, and what had come to light, and what was just meant to confuse everybody?

“It was nothing of significance,” Kyouko lied transparently. Even she felt the need to follow up. “In her condition, nothing she says can be trusted, or even considered seriously. So if I tell anyone, it’ll get around, and cause further issues for the group. No doubt, you’re thinking the same thing, with that worried look.”

“Do you think it’s true, though?” Shuichi couldn’t help but ask. “What was it?”

“It’s pointless to even consider. I just said that. Come on.”

With no further fanfare, or any other attempt to communicate to Junko or engage her in discussion, as per Mukuro’s instructions, they left.

This just left Gonta in Heavy Containment.

Luckily, he was calm and complainant. The green-haired giant was even genuinely contrite and sorry for the havoc and injury he caused. The massive man, largest among all the Ultimates, certainly developed a healthy fear of Himiko, one of the smallest, just two doors down. More than that, he was open to suggestion.

Comically open, The hospital staff had Gonta fervently believing that obeying their every wish was the only path to salvation. He was, along with Kiibo, already a ‘satellite member’ of the Black Hats, after all. Whatever that meant. At least Angie had impressed upon Gonta the need for containment, and caution, and safety, above all else.

And the need to never again listen to a single thing that Kokichi Ouma said.

Shuichi wished everyone could learn that lesson so easily. Especially himself.

Gonta was really hard on himself in the wake of that rampage. Even though he’d miraculously managed not to seriously injure anyone. At least, anyone who couldn’t be fixed by a magic spell.

“Gonta idiot! Gonta never become gentleman, now!” Normally, somebody in such a state would be difficult to console. Mere words wouldn’t reach through to the heart of a deeper issue. “Gonta hurt girl, even. Gonta lowest of scum degenerate, like Tenko say.”

Not anymore, fortunately. She’d dropped the d-word from her vocabulary. Especially with Nekomaru in such bad condition. That seemed to spur her to take his teachings even more seriously.

Since Gonta believed anything anybody told him, Shuichi could at least try to help.

“Gonta. You’re not an idiot. You’re a very sweet, very smart man. And you’re our friend. But you’re sick right now. Which means you’ve got to listen to the hospital staff and security, and not to anyone else. If you do that, everything will be okay, and everyone will forgive you. Okay?”

“Oh, okay.” The tears dried up, and Gonta went back to his friendly, broad smile. “Sounds simple. Gonta apparently smart, but Gonta still leave it to friends for now.”

“Huh, thought we were gonna have a Lifetime moment there,” Rantaro said. “Or something.”

“Oh, Gonta sorry! Should Gonta be sad again?”

“No, it’s fine,” Kyouko shook her head. “What happened wasn’t good, Gonta. But you’ve been told that a lot already. You’ve learned your lesson, and you won’t fall for the same trick again. As long as nobody else gets hurt, then we’ll be fine. We will find a way to help you, and all the victims of the Despair Disease.”

“... Yeah! Gonta believe in friends! That best thing to do right now.”

He was such a sweet boy, when he wasn’t knocking down buildings and threatening people for not loving bugs.

That handled Heavy Containment.

Until Rantaro pointed out that there were, in fact, **four** occupied rooms in this section. Not three. A sign near the entrance even said as much.

How had they managed to miss that?

Nobody could remember who was in the fourth, which seemed impossible by itself.

Any anomaly appearing at this point had to be investigated. They went to this fourth room posthaste.

Only to discover a very bored Hiro, of all people, chilling out in an ordinary hospital room. It just happened to be surrounded by security and thick walls, like the others in this section. He wasn’t terribly out of sorts. While obviously sick and sniffy, he wasn’t ranting, or insane.

Well, he wasn’t ranting.

Actually, he looked really happy to see them. “Oh thank God. Finally, some food. Right? You guys are, uh, gonna feed me. Right? That’s like, a law or something?”

“What are you talking about?” Kyouko said. “In fact, who… are you?”

“Oh no!” The strange man with a massive brown afro said. Tears were in his eyes, he was clearly hysterical or ill or something. “It’s happening again! Come on!”

Shuichi hadn’t seen a fresh face on this island before. Somebody new, a stranger. Another human being. He was struck dumb. He just let Kyouko take the lead. “Answer me. Who are you? Are you with the Hunt? How did you get here?”

Fortunately, they got things sorted out.

As sorted as it was possible for them to be.

They were faced with yet another abject impossibility for the growing pile.

“Let me see if I have this written down correctly,” Shuichi said. “So. Every so often, somebody rediscovers this room, and you, with considerable alarm. Until they quickly and inevitably forget again. A cycle which has already happened several times?”

“You were here last night, dude! You asked me questions about it! You wrote stuff down in your little notepad there! Just like what you’re doing right now.”

Shuichi flipped through his notes skeptically. “I’m not seeing anything here… wait.”

All at once, some of it came back.

There was a page consisting entirely of things that Yasuhiro Hagakure, the Ultimate Clairvoyant, _wasn’t_.

Shuichi found this astounding enough to just start reading off items. “We agreed he wasn’t an alien. We agreed he wasn’t a woman. We agreed he wasn’t intelligent.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark!”

Kyouko reached up to massage her own head. “I don’t remember anything about you… except the things that you aren’t. Hmm. If Shuichi truly did write down more than that here, but it ‘vanished’ off the page, and we forget him… This could be an anti-meme.”

“Anti-meme?” Rantaro was out of his depth, but that was okay. They all were.

“Memes are infectious information,” Kyouko explained. “Scientifically speaking. Some even say our modern society lives and dies by them. Theoretically, an anti-meme is a ‘self-classifying secret’. Something that can’t be known. Not because we can’t learn this information, as we’re doing right now. But because it becomes forgotten. Even information written down about the subject vanishes.”

“How is that possible?!” Shuichi asked. “Even compared to literally everything else we’ve seen this past month, that’s… heavy. That’s not even magic. That’s rewriting reality itself. Information doesn’t just ‘classify itself’.”

"Like I said, we're in a video game. I become more certain by the day." Ha ha, what a funny joke. Kyouko shrugged. “Let’s run a test. It’s been well over the five minutes that this Hiro alleges causes memory loss. Who is he?’

‘Who is who?” Shuichi asked. What was Kyouko talking about- “Wait, who is that?”

Somebody _new_? On this island? Where they’d been cut off from society at large for so long? How could that person even have possibly found them?

Did the Ultimate Hunt now know-

“We can’t remember anything about him, except negations of fact.” Kyouko nodded, consulting the notes. “Which is how anything at all written about him wasn’t wiped out, because it only affects positive declarations. So we’ll forget that he has absurdly ridiculous hair-”

“That’s rude!”

“But we’ll remember that he’s not a redhead.”

Rantaro shook his head, going for the door. “And I’m out. Reality has officially broken. Or maybe my brain is the one that’s broken. Either way, this is too much.”

“Please bring me some food before you guys go,” The strange fellow pleaded. He seemed really desperate, for some reason. “Please! I don’t wanna die here. Not like this. It's no better than the mafia catching up to me because of those unfortunate debts...”

What _was_ his deal, anyway?

Needless to say, getting that issue sorted out was impossible. No countermeasure for the effect, whatever it was, was available. Or even theoretically possible. No explanation for how a virus could render somebody into an object that didn’t obey the laws of physics presented itself.

They left with no answers, only a certainty that whatever it was wasn’t a threat.

Probably.

Kyoko set up something automatic, with Kazuichi’s stalwart assistance. Since it was related to that man, it was soon forgotten. Until it sent her a reminder, at regular intervals. Not too frequently, as it turned out the process of forgetting and remembering Yasuhiro Hagakure was not painless. It was enough to make sure he was still contained, not in trouble or causing trouble, and getting fed.

Whoever he was, and whyever he couldn’t just get his own food.

As expected, they got little of any use out of those three subjects in Heavy Containment.

It was good to make sure they were doing… okay. They weren’t going to hurt others, or be a danger to themselves, thanks to Himiko’s laziness and love of praise and gifts, Junko’s heavy sedation and straight jacket, and Gonta’s innocent nature and gullible symptoms.

Their next destination was a floor above, in the **Intensive Care Unit**.

There were only two patients there, and both had gone in and out of critical condition in the past day alone. Mikan spent a lot of time and tears in this room, and everyone’s thoughts and prayers were with them.

Kaito and Nekomaru got their own rooms, and were under constant surveillance.

In Kaito’s case, he was also under threat of a royal ass-beating from a concerned Nurse Tenko, should he try to just get up and walk out of his bed. Again. Even spewing blood from his mouth, and reportedly not just there, yet he wanted to get back to work and help everyone out.

Nekomaru might have been a handful too, if he was conscious. Yet he’d slipped under. Mikan got the most nervous discussing his case, even with her ironclad focus on treatment and doing her job, but she made it clear he wasn’t dying.

Yet.

When they got to Nekomaru’s room, they found both of his disciples there.

Tenko and Akane, normally water and oil, weren’t fighting each other or doing anything except just talking, like normal human beings. After checking temperatures to make sure they hadn’t caught it too, that left honest grief and concern for Nekomaru as the only explanation.

Even Akane was downright somber. A state that Shuichi had literally never seen her approach. Normally, events slid off her back like rainwater off a roof. She ignored others, and their concerns, to an extent approaching textbook sociopathology.

When it was ‘Coach Nekomaru’, though, those sharp brown eyes were brought to tears. Watching a pillar of uncaring strength reduced to this was tough. This incident was breaking everyone down, exposing their raw cores. Making it impossible for anyone, victim or those spared, to continue as normal.

Rantaro made it clear they were there for Akane, if she wanted to talk about it.

“T-Thanks,” She sighed. “I’m no good at talkin’, though, so, just… Get it done, guys. Tenko, your girlfriend’s working on a cure, right?”

Tenko didn’t even go into a gay disaster tailspin at that. “Correct. Tenko has every faith in Mikan’s abilities, and will support her in any way possible. Er, Atua also told her to do that. Yep.” Nice and smooth there, Tenko.

That guise fit about as well as the blue highleg leotard one-piece she had on.

_Look on the bright side. Even if Angie does get a lot of followers, half of them may be double agents. If Atua really knows everything, surely he’ll see that one coming?_

Luckily, she was talking to Akane, who legitimately didn’t notice anything that wasn’t blinking red, edible, or emitted a shonen aura of power.

It had been some work to keep Akane from sparring with ‘Ishida’.

Shuichi was just looking for reasons to not look at the hospital bed, or listen to the steady, rhythmic heartbeat monitors pulsing along. Nekomaru wasn’t going to slip off to death without a whisper, his life force was so incredibly strong, even in this state. But he also hadn’t awoken. He was wearing an oxygen mask. The breathing machinery sounded louder than the gale-force winds battering the window outside like howling ghosts.

Kazuichi had done his best for this too, throwing himself at the problem in creative ways, given the pile of scrap and second-hand electronics he had to work with. The monitors he linked up and networked were every bit as much of a tribute to the big as the flowers and gifts left by his bed.

Which were becoming a mountain in their own right.

“You don’t realize what you have until you lose it,” Tenko remarked, glancing at the gifts. “Tenko could be happy that so many people are thinking about Sensei. Or she could be really mad that you all never gave him any of this, or said any of the things she’s heard people say over his bed, when he was awake to appreciate it.”

“It’s just the way people are,” Kyouko said impassively. “You may as well get mad at the sun for rising.” She shook her head. “When he wakes up, we’ll just have to tell him all these things we’re feeling.”

Akane nodded. “That… sounds good. Real good.”

“Shuichi,” Kyouko said. “I’ll stay here with Nekomaru for a while. Rantaro wants to, as well.”

“I do?”

“Use this time however you like.”

That was Kyouko for _‘Go to him, you idiot. He’s right next door and awake.’_

He sure was, too.

Shuichi found Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars, halfway down the hall, leaning heavily on the metal stand that contained bags of fluids. Some were hooked up to flow into his body, others went the opposite way. He couldn’t stand up normally, so he just used it hobble around like he was ninety.

This escape attempt ended the moment he caught sight of Shuichi. The larger man let out an embarrassed cough. “H-Hey there, Shuichi. You got me, I surrender.”

Shuichi exploded.

Everything he’d been keeping in came out. It wasn’t quite yelling, because even Shuichi at his worst wasn’t really capable of that yet. That it was _Shuichi_ delivering this filibuster made it effective.

Like the teacher who only raised his voice twice a year. When he did, his classroom went dead silent.

“Is there honestly nothing going on up there in your head, Kaito?! Is Kokichi right when he gives you a hard time? Has everyone invested their faith in a leader who’s literally too stupid to function, and whose sole achievement will be dying pointlessly?”

This wasn’t Kaito’s first time found outside of his bed.

Shuichi got him back where he belonged without alerting the others.

“Make no mistake, please. If I ever see you out of bed again, I’ll tell Mikan. I don’t know exactly what she does to disobedient patients, but given what she does to terrible, disloyal friends, you won’t have a good time. No, more than that, I’ll tell Kaede. In her current state, she won’t care, because the whole island is facing a crisis bigger than your posturing need to be ‘manly’ and ‘strong’, but eventually she’ll recover. She’ll do what I can’t bring myself to, and slug you right across the face.”

Shuichi shook.

“You’re _supposed_ to be our leader, but you’re making all of us worry, and waste our valuable time we could be helping somebody who’s not a boneheaded moron. Even if you’re trying to help or something, the best thing you can do is stop messing around right now, and realize your position here.”

“Tch.”

_What’s that dumbass smile for?_

“A month ago, you would have sooner eaten a bullet then refuse anything I told you to do. Much less gotten on my ass like my nanny.”

Shuichi let out a sigh. It felt like his entire life force flowed out as he exhaled out the facemask, making one of those ghosts outside. “It’s been a very busy month.”

“You’ve been busy especially, huh partner.” Kaito smiled at him, which was unfair when Shuichi was trying to stay mad. It was hard to melt, and stay mad, at the same time. “I knew you were.getting more manly and cool, but this took even me by surprise.”

“You’re… _proud_ that I told you off.”

“Fuck yeah! If you meet the Buddha on the road, you should kill his fat ass!” Surprisingly, that wasn’t a misquote, or at least, it conveyed the spirit of the idea well enough. Normally when Kaito tried something like that, he butchered it. “No, I have no right to act like a mentor or whatever after that stunt I pulled. I’m going nuts in here, Shuichi. I do think about my position. All the time. Every hour I’m laid up in bed, useless, a drain on resources, I die a little. And I ain’t talkin’ bout the blood. That’s peanuts compared to watching Mikan work herself to death.”

Shuichi took a seat beside his bed. “That’s understandable, at least. We’re all doing what we can. It’s weird to even think this, but… this disease has really brought us together. No more bickering, no more paranoia. I’m sure that’ll all come back in force soon. We haven’t found those traitors, but I haven’t heard one word about it from anybody. When it all hit yesterday morning, and people were dying, being hurt, going insane… the others. Everyone just moved. They moved before they even necessarily realized what they were doing. It’s the same for me, even.”

“Sometimes it takes a kick in the ass to get going, huh.” Kaito nodded. “I get it. Look, it’s good you came by, because I’ve also got… things to say. Stuff to apologize for.”

He was just full of surprises today. “ _Apologize?_ I thought a man didn’t apologize.”

“A man doesn’t apologize! Unless he really needs to because he’s a braying jackass.” Kaito winced. Like the admission hurt him more than his whole disease thing. “I’m sorry about this. That’s just the start, though. I’m sorry for a lot of things. Even if you don’t blame me, or it looks like it worked out, I pushed you hard. I just kept pushing. I pushed more than just work on you.

I was… distant from everyone, too. There was something keeping us apart. I thought to be a leader, you need distance. Not to mention, it was just easier. Especially with you, with all these things I’ve been feeling, stuff that’s… I dunno. I always thought it was ‘for girls’. I’m not the snuggle-bears type, Shuichi. Never have been. But I haven’t been there for you when you needed it, like the shit with Angie. Or just in general.”

Shuichi could only listen in astonishment. That sounded dangerously like self-reflection.

“I can’t even call myself your friend, like this. Much less anything else, anything more-”

Shuichi shut him up the only way he knew how in that moment. By pulling off his own mask, leaning in, and kissing Kaito square on the bloody lips.

He tasted like iron and death. He smelled horrible, like he distinctly needed a bath and had been resisting same. A bit of his unshaven purple stubble scritch-scratched Shuichi, who preferred smooth skin considerably.

Shuichi hadn't exactly cleared this impulsive action with Kaede, given the circumstances.

None of that mattered a damn in the moment.

Kaito turned a fascinating shade of red, probably matching Shuichi's own burning cheeks. “W-What the hell?! Shuichi, your mask, you… you’re gonna get it, moron!”

“I know you don’t have the Despair Disease, Kaito. Whatever you do have is long-term. I would have caught it way before now if it was communicable.”

“You… sheesh. You’re scary sometimes. One day in, and you can tell that much?”

_Well, and you just admitted my hunch to me._

“Of course I am. If criminals aren’t intimidated, what’s a detective even doing? I need to give off the impression that I know everything, like I’ve got some special power. Kyouko does it way better than me, even if she’s new to the title.”

“I don’t think she’d do _that_.”

_I sure hope not, or we’d have to have a weird detective duel or something._

“Will you just tell me what’s _really_ going on?”

Kaito looked aside. “Yeah, sure. I will. But not now. It’s not a pressing issue.”

Shuichi’s gaze hardened again in annoyance. “How’s that?”

Kaito sighed, defeated again. “Because you're right, it's chronic, meaning I've had it forever. Since at least we woke up here. Knowing my story won’t help anything. It won’t help you solve this situation, or make a cure, or any of that. It’ll just take up more of your mind, when you should be using it to help Mikan and the others with the investigation.”

Shuichi shook his head. “Still trying to play the hero in the worst of ways. Or just avoiding the tough questions, like Usami. Except _she_ gets yelled at, while everybody acts like you’re cool just for having all that confidence. Even as they doubt if there’s anything there to back it up.”

Kaito rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, partner. You picked a hell of a guy to stick to.”

Shuichi shrugged. “I knew that going in, so it’s fine I suppose.”

“I sure hope so, you didn’t even know for sure if I was, you know, that way, before you did that!” Shuichi was about to retort something about all the purple, or the galaxy-jacket, or the way he got on with girls, or something else that was probably rude. He didn’t get the chance, though.

Kaito coughed up some more of his own blood, pink and horrible.

“Are you okay?!” Shuichi hit the call button for the nurse .”What the hell happened to the constant monitoring system?! Mikan should have known the moment you got out of bed, much less all this...”

“Course I’m okay,” Kaito lied, wiping away his blood enough to where he could take in some wheezing, raspy breaths. “Kaz set the system to always read ‘fine’, as a favor for his good buddy.”

“... You’re friends?” Shuichi blinked.

“Guess even the Ultimate Detective can’t take note of every dumb thing that happens on this island. Life’s too chaotic to have all the answers, huh?” Then, Kaito fell into another coughing fit.

Shuichi waited until Mikan bumble-fluffed into sight, with a team behind her carrying every medical thing known to man, and several he’d never seen before. Then, he got out of the way, and moved on.

Kaito, you’re on the questions-to-answer list now, too. Another list that only gets bigger with time. Nekomaru doesn’t have DD either, I’d bet.

That one was less of a deductive stretch, given what Nekomaru confided in him earlier.

A surprise awaited them in the hallways, once the party grouped back up. Fuyuhiko, of all people, was storming around, looking for ‘the help’. He got them, so he demanded, “Hey, bastards. Where the hell is Peko?!”

Everyone looked at each other. “Last I saw just a while ago, she was manning the Light Containment checkpoint,” Kyouko replied, unfazed by his barking-dog attitude.

“Yeah, well. Uh. Hopefully she’s still down there.” What was up with him? What was up with anyone, these days? “Oh, and another thing. Where’s that mother hen bitch, Mahiru?”

Rantaro stared at him. “Why-”

“I’m the one asking the questions here! What gives you the fuckin’ right to question me?!”

Rantaro didn’t say ‘because I might have something you need, like information’ to the fuming-mad Ultimate Yakuza. He just said, “Well, I saw Mahiru last around here, Heavy Containment, although I think she’s gonna do that, uh, TV thing? I didn’t really get any details, but they were supposed to meet in the lobby to plan…”

Fuyuhiko sighed. “You don’t even know where your woman’s at for sure, huh? Pussy. Whatever. Thanks, I guess.”

Then, he left.

“Rude. What was _that_ about?” Rantaro asked, to nobody in particular.

Nobody, in particular, had an answer, and there was still work to be done.

So they left.

There was still more required of Shuichi before he could relax, or ponder life’s more minor mysteries.

 **The Luxury Suites** , as they were called only semi-sarcastically, awaited past an elevator.

“Top floor,” Rantaro said. “Men’s clothing, electronics, drug storage, and sick girlfriends. Ah, sorry, Shuichi.”

“It’s fine.” If Kokichi was in his right mind, he’d be so proud of what a fraud Shuichi was getting to be these days. “First, let’s see if Gundham’s okay. Then, Kaede.”

Sandwiched between emotional roller-coasters, Gundham Tanaka, the Supreme Overlord of Ice, one of the four elected leaders of the whole island, was disturbingly normal and rational.

He had a speech disorder, of a sort. In that unlike his usual dense monologues about darkness and evil, often cloaking mundane conversation topics or a genuine friendly warmth underneath, he now just spoke normally. Like a normal person. Like somebody who didn’t desperately wish to be back in middle school, or act like he was still there.

“Hey there, guys!”

“Hey, Gundham.” Rantaro waved back in reply to the bandaged arm that came up in greeting. “How’s it going? Ham-hams still sick?”

“Unfortunately.” The Ultimate Animal Breeder sighed, and motioned to four tiny beds mounted on his nightstand. Each one contained one of his Four Dark Devas of Destruction, slumbering peacefully. One had a tiny thermometer in its mouth, while another had a microscopic ice pack over its forehead. “Their conditions a way bigger concern than my own, honestly. But Mikan says they’ll pull through.”

Gundham probably knew more about animal health than Mikan did. Shuichi kept that to himself.

Considering the state of the other three leaders, Gundham was the only one conscious, relatively hale and hearty, and still sane, which meant he would normally be assuming the reigns of leadership and taking command. However, he’d been content to empower Mukuro to act in whatever manner she saw fit, for the good of everyone, with only the occasional input on decisions.

He just asked to be updated on the situation, and the party gave him a rundown of all of today’s events so far. “So, this disease. It manifests really differently in everyone. It’s almost tailor-made to take advantage of our personalities. In fact, I’ll go further, this seems like some kind of weapon. Could that Monokuma have brought it with him when he showed up that first day? Some delayed effect?”

Shuichi frowned. “That’s a stretch. It would fit with Usami’s story about a ‘virus that only activates after a month’, but why design something like that? What would be the point, when he seemed perfectly happy to just blow things up, and force us to kill each other the normal way?”

“A motive?" Kyouko suggested. “He could have brought some tricks for later. Things to get his strange Killing Game moving along. From what snippets we’ve been able to recover about the prior Killing Game we were all apparently in, there were motives. Why not here, too?”

“Well, at least he’s not here to take advantage,” Gundham sighed. “I feel like if Usami hadn’t gotten that stick back, well. Who knows.”

“We’re lucky,” Rantaro nodded. “Or at least, Makoto’s lucky. Poor guy. Hope he pulls through.”

“All we can do is our best,” Gundham nodded. “Once you isolate the disease strains, then the hospital’s bio-lab might be able to do something. Regardless, in spite of all that’s happened, we all lived. That’s worth being grateful, in my opinion.”

“Definitely.” Shuichi was tempted to take a seat. He could sit and talk with the Gundham for hours, and he’d done that once, yesterday when everyone was settling in.

That was dangerous temptation, though, especially now.

Now that Shuichi was running fresh out of excuses to avoid Kaede’s room.

“You don’t need to come with me.” Shuichi thought Kyouko was talking to the adventure-loving avocado, but no. Those cold, clear dark purple eyes were fixed on him. “I can handle it, if you want. You can stay here with Gundham and gather his report.”

“Thank you, Kyouko. I appreciate the offer.” Shuichi managed a smile. “I’m pretty weak. But if I can’t face my own girlfriend and support her with everything I’ve got, Nekomaru was right. I may as well pack it in as a man at that point.”

More than that, I’ve now made a promise to both of those guys. They’re fighting for their lives, but they both took time out to point out what a coward I was. Am. Even Kaede herself always said I had to face the truth.

Especially when it hurts the worst.

“Then we’re with you a hundred percent, Shuichi,” Rantaro said. “You want to bail, just give me The Look, and we’ll exfil asap. Ah, we’ll like, go.”

“I’m the Ultimate Detective, I can figure out lingo,” Shuichi sighed. “Rantaro, you’ve been a big help today too. Just helping us not get totally into our own heads, or lose perspective. Right, Kyouko?”

“You exceeded my very low expectations,” Kyouko admitted. “Come on, then.”

Like Gundham, Kaede was put up in the most lavish accommodations possible. It was still a hospital room, but serious effort was put into comfort. Aside from the large window, opaque despite the curtains being drawn in this early hour of the day, there was a big-screen TV. Miu-Chiaki had gladly contributed games consoles to the cause, and they even got movies from the theater.

That had actually proven popular with this Kaede, who loved to rag on bad things rather than focus on the bright side. It wasn’t just the myopia and self-centeredness endemic in sickness; she was different.

Even when she wasn’t wheezing and sneezing up a smaller storm to match the weather, she was unnervingly cheerful while also saying the most horrible things with a completely straight face.

Optimistic, but not in an ‘everything will work out’ way like her usual Her attitude was more like a person who had already given up on life, and was just trying to enjoy what time was left.

Nihilistic hedonism, in spite of her mild symptoms.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again, Shuichi. Done crying?”

She never missed a chance to pick at Shuichi’s guilt like an open wound, either. Both kinds of Kaede knew that his guilty heart was a weakness, but this one loved to dig in, and see what was there.

At least she seemed to behave a little more around other people. “Oh, and hey, uh, you guys. Another visit? I must be really popular.”

“Definitely,” Rantaro confirmed. “Remember anything yet?”

“Sorry.” Kaede shrugged. She went back to munching some of Teruteru’s hand-baked confections. “So,” She said, mouth half-full of lavish food, “Did you want, like, another interview?”

“Ideally,” Kyouko nodded. “The fact that you don’t remember current events since we woke up here, but still remember Monokuma, is a detail that we can’t fail to fully investigate.”

“We only met him a month ago, and while nobody on the island’s likely to forget that night, it definitely wasn’t in some distant past,” Rantaro nodded.

“How’s it going for you, Shuichi?” Kaede asked, fixing him with a dead-eyed stare. “I asked you a question. Find your balls yet?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He mumbled, barely audible.

Morose, shaking.

His heart raced and he wanted to leave, or yell at her too, or something, but exploding at Kaito had taken most of his remaining energy reserve. It was so early in the day, but he just had so little left. So little to handle seeing Kaede twisted into another, darker person.

Like a monster had put on her skin. All the outward appearance was there, except for how she’d removed her music note hairpins and put them aside on the coffee table. She kept most of the pins, but now, music, or any hint of it, provoked violent, disdainful disinterest.

“I guess so. Maybe I should be, like, impressed by how cool you are now, huh?” Kaede snorted in amusement at that idea. She reached for the remote, and flipped through the precious few channels.

TV was only as good as the things it received, and on this island, only a few people were even trying to broadcast.

Angie made sure to get a channel. A dislike for literal televangelism was something they could both agree on, at least. Mahiru was doing her best to deliver the news, but there just wasn’t all that much to talk about, so it turned into her personal vlog fast.

“And I’m supposed to be friends with her, too?” Kaede asked in honest disbelief. “She’s always trying to do too much, it’s like baked into her freckled DNA.”

Rantaro shrugged. “That’s part of her charm, but I’m pretty dang based. Maybe I volunteered just out of guilt. Since I’ve got, like, the only relationship on the island that isn’t being ripped apart at the seams by this Despair Disease. Except for the Black Hats, of course. If you can count that.”

“Anything new to report at all?” Kyouko asked.

“Hmm.” Kaede mulled something over for a while. “I wasn’t gonna bother to mention it, but it might liven things up, so hey. I’ll tell you guys something I heard with these golden ears, through the walls.” She grinned darkly. “That rabbit thing was talking. I didn’t hear anybody answer back, though, and I’m pretty sure. It’s done it a few times. Either that Usami is talking to itself for some godforsaken reason. Or, even more fun, she’s colluding with somebody.”

“What was she saying?” Shuichi asked.

“I only caught, like, snippets, on account of not actually caring, but something absolutely vom-inducing about everything being ‘for the sake of a future filled with hope’. And ‘not letting Monokuma take over the New World’.”

“Not letting… Monokuma?” Kyouko pondered this. “Were we right? Are there going to be more people like Monokuma coming? The Ultimate Hunt? Is that what was keeping her so busy, for so long?”

“It would be a lot less boring,” Kaede said. “Either you’d win, or they’d win, but either way it would be fun for everyone to watch, right? Everyone loves a good game of life or death.”

Who’s this ‘everyone’? I couldn’t stand it, even for that brief time when it looked like that Monokuma was going to try and make us kill each other.

“Oh, and another thing. She kept whimpering about the ‘survival of the human race’. Last I checked, people were doing fine. In fact, they sort of spread out like a virus, when you really think about it. The last thing you need to worry about is how people take care of themselves, even if it’s at the expense of others-”

The ground rumbled, mercifully interrupting another of Kaede’s displays on how she’d, in her own words, ‘lost faith in humanity’.

“The fuck?”

Shuichi’s teeth and bones rattled.

He felt a rumbling boom pour through his entire body in an unsettling wave.

“Fucking storm,” Kaede sighed. “At least the power’s not likely to go out. The slutty nurse with a massive rack told me they’ve got like fifteen backup generators. Not that you apparently know where the main power source even is yet. Nice investigating, by the way.”

Rantaro listened intently as another rumble shook the room, and sent small items flying around. “That’s not thunder.”

“Yeah?” Kaede smirked. Boom! “What is it then?”

“I wouldn’t forget that feeling for the world. That-” Boom! “Is explosives going off.”

Shuichi sighed. “Rantaro, I don’t have anything left, please just save it for-”

“I’m not fucking around, Shuichi.” Rantaro’s head was shaped as his hair fell around his eyes. He leaned forward, hands on hips, face intense. He was getting That Look. The same one he used when he’d assured everybody he wasn’t a dangerous guy. “Kaede, turn back to the news again.”

Kaede shrugged. “Sure, but- Oh, hey. A live report.” Her voice made it clear she considered the as exciting as anything Shuichi had to say. “Whoopee.”

_“... dear viewers, what you’re seeing isn’t some fever dream! Although I wish it was. That was another missile that just came in, and-” Boom! “That makes eight, I think. It hasn’t stopped, and…”_

_What?_

_**Missiles?** _

The camera, held from a position shorter than Mahiru because Hiyoko was probably holding it, panned over towards the island itself. Where a missile was rising up on a column of fire and smoke, arcing out of a newly-revealed missile battery.

It wasn’t coming back down, but going outwards.

“What the _holy hell_?” Kaede stared. “That’s, like,  _awesome_. What’s going on?!”

“You’ve got us,” Rantaro shrugged. “I didn’t know we _had_ any missiles, even on the base.”

Watching the missile fly gave some idea as to its target, out to sea. It passed over the line of the horizon before bursting into a tremendous explosion. It sent high waves from the dark waters of sea. It also provoked a response; another missile, coming in on the island, and landing with a tremendous explosion of sand and rock in the distance. Mahiru struggled to stay standing, and she was shouting from the ringing in her ears.

_“We’re still trying to figure out what’s going on, but this situation… it’s just like what happened that first day! Things are going insane, the storm… everyone, we might need to be ready for… that!”_

_“It’ll be different this time.”_

Usami had appeared at some point beside Mahiru, gazing out solemnly towards the sea, towards the direction that more missiles were flying even now. T

Towards the direction they were getting missiles back, all of which were landing around without doing much damage, except ripping up the terrain.

_“It’s good that you’ve got that thing, so I can speak to everyone. This isn’t something I can conceal any longer, nor should I.”_

Mahiru blinked. _“Uh, go ahead? Not like I could ever stop you from running your mouth…”_

Usami turned to the camera. _“Everyone, I’m sorry for not speaking about this sooner. I hoped that I could resolve the situation quietly, in the background, and that I could avoid troubling you any further. That was too naive. So instead, I at least owe you an explanation about this.”_

 _“I’d say_ so _!”_ Hiyoko’s voice came from behind the camera. _“What is this, some kind of new dumbass fireworks show?! Are you messing with us, you weird animal thing?”_

 _“If only.”_ Usami shook her stuffed head. _“Look, there he is.”_

_“He?! Who’s… **what**?”_

In the distance, a trio of steel-grey naval ships appeared, spewing missiles, and receiving them in return.

Followed by an entire line of ships across the horizon, running lights breaking the darkness of night and bathing the island in the glare of searchlights.

This fleet flew the flag of no nation. Instead, there a symbol that looked absurdly like the crest of Hope’s Peak Academy itself, only… wrong. Standing on the prow of the ship in the middle, only visible as the camera zoomed in several times, framed by leaping jets of water and flame, was an all too familiar figure.

One that, when put next to the dramatically flapping flags, finally made Shuichi realize that it had also been designed with the emblem in mind.

Kaede couldn’t contain herself. “I knew it. I fucking knew it! Oh man. Oh man, I’m finally going to see him in person! Just wait, guys. These boring days are soon gonna be replaced by something way cooler, like a Killing Game. Or who knows? A full scale war? Fantastic.”

Shuichi was going to be sick.

A voice boomed over massive loudspeakers, coming in like the roiling ocean waves.

**“Open the country. Stop having it be closed… to despair! Upupupu! I’m back, baby! This time, I’ll use gunboat diplomacy to get this party started right! It's time for Despair's Counterattack!”**

That first day had just been a teaser of what these stuffed animals had in store when they fought.

Fire fell from the sky, just like how everyone remembered.

This time, it was man made.

The war for Gopher Island had begun in earnest, with bombs bursting all over and explosions blooming like twisted roses high into the sky, gouts of flame and smoke joining the chaos of the storm.

Nobody could move. The shock was absolute and total.

Even those who weren’t too ill to move could do absolutely nothing but sit, and watch, glued to TV screens or just looking out the windows.

Shuichi did both, unable to comprehend what was going on until it was well underway.

With his arrival came a greater struggle, which would determine the future of the entire human race. The battle between Hope and Despair hadn't been won, merely delayed until now. Their reprieve was temporary, and things could never be the same again.

The Ultimate Hunt had found them.

Monokuma was back, and he'd brought friends.


	33. 2-11. The Siege of Gopher Island (Kaede)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With November over, I can refocus on this project. Not that it slowed me down a ton, as I managed a lot of progress on it regardless. However, I'll announce it here since I'm super proud anyhow. I completed NaNoWriMo by the 28th of November, which means I'm literally a winner.
> 
> It wasn't even on this, it was on something else which I may post, or which no other living human being may literally be allowed to see. Ah well. Either way, I still have bragging rights basically forever.

The Ultimate Hunt stole the Ultimates’ agency and narrowed their options.

To people promised the world after graduating Hope’s Peak, that was terrifying.

That, and the guns.

They really did have a fucking lot of guns.

The Ultimates were, for the first time on this island, helpless. It was just like they remembered it before. A life of fear so constant, it got stale. Even the ones who could fight had no role to play. Usami merely asked them to stay out of the way, as she deployed her forces.

Where had she kept those forces? Why was she only revealing them now? Those were questions for after the siege had concluded. For now, there was only fire, smoke, and the ghoulish howl of the storm. It didn’t abate. If anything, the weather worsened as the battle intensified.

Copies of herself and new Exisals showed up by the dozens across the shores of Tranquility and Chandler Beaches. They set up concrete bunkers and razor wire, fortifying against the oncoming invasion of Despair. Missiles flew overhead, smashing against the huge fleet out on the water, and blasting away at hidden missile launchers in the jungle. Through that deadly rain of fire, the Usami-engineers worked through the afternoon.

The landing ships full of Monokumas came soon afterwards.

As if they were obligingly waiting for a dramatic enough stage for their battle.

They were packed tightly into those metal boxes. Each Monokuma sported a GI helmet and rifle. They were miniaturized to work with his small plushy frame. As the islanders discovered, they still fired very real bullets. They weren’t the targets, but a few Ultimates had close calls.

When the landing craft out there lowered their ramps, it was often directly into the line of fire of an Usami machine-gun nest.

All caught with loving detail by Mahiru’s TV program, determined to show the battle such that even patients in the hospital, like poor Kaede, could watch.

Bless that feisty redhead.

This was the best programming Kaede had seen since, well. A certain other show that pretty much everyone loved. A show featuring thrills, chills, and kills alike. Hope and despair, mixed together.

This was like that, but more immediate and fast-paced. More explosions.

Shuichi would later opine that the worst part of this all was that the plushies bled pink when shot and ‘killed’.

It gave this utterly surreal battle of stuffed animals that touch of reality that brought it too close to home, and made the scenes of abject carnage and destruction look a little too plausible for some tastes.

Shuichi was a little bitch, though.

Kaede honestly couldn’t believe she’d ever been in love with a wimp like that.

Now that she had her senses back, she’d be making a lot of _changes_ around here.

She could hear them, muttering to each other in the hallways. Things they didn’t want Kaede to hear. They sounded afraid of her. They should have been. They were certainly concerned about her recent change of heart. About the disease, what its effects could be. That sort of chatter bored her, but she picked up interesting bits, too.

That supposed-chuuni Gundham was right next door, and de facto leader of the island, along with Mukuro. The two of them had to decide how to handle this. Or rather, if there was anything to be done.

While Kaede was frozen out for her ‘bad attitude’.

 _“Should we prepare to evacuate the hospital?”_ Mukuro’s deep, calm, sexy female voice.

 _“Where would we go? Where can we go on these islands?”_ Gundham’s voice, a strong, regular male tone. _“Bombs are falling all over. I hate to say it, but we just have to hope Monokuma doesn’t target the hospital.”_

 _“If it’s the same as last time,”_ Kyouko, a flatly-upgraded Shuichi in all respects, said, _“Monokuma won’t take direct action against any of us, provided we don’t join the battle. Last time, he seemed to want us alive for his sick games.”_

 _“If Monokuma wins this time, we’ll be forced into… a killing game?”_ Gundham asked.

_“We have no reason to expect otherwise.”_

_“Is the person controlling Monokuma the same one as last time?”_ Shuichi asked.

 _“We have no way to establish one way or another,”_ Kyouko said. _“So I’ll just refer to them all as the same entity, until we can figure it out. In the immediate term, Gundham’s right. Anywhere we evacuate to would be less safe, and we just got everyone settled in here.”_

 _“Those_ are _real missiles, right?”_

The ground shook like a giant was stamping his feet just outside.

_“As far as we can tell. I don’t want to find out, frankly. This is far past the level of some elaborate show. There’s a war going on outside these walls.”_

All the Ultimates could do was watch. Even the healthy ones were of no more use than bedridden Kaede. She enjoyed the idea of how useless they must have felt. Did it put them in despair, by any chance?

Oh well.

Kaede payed attention to the TV as hours passed. Bombing and shelling continued.

Missiles, guns, rockets, ships, bases. Blowing apart before their eyes. Fires rampaging in spite of the storm. The water and wind couldn’t stop this battle, or turn back the destruction, but it could threaten to sweep aside that entire fleet. Waves tossed Monokuma landing craft far ashore, where they were surrounded by Usamis. And ripped apart by steel claws and rifle bayonets alike.

There was apparently some kind of military base on this island, but it was one of the first targets to go. Usami tried to use the vehicles and gear in there, so Monokuma sent a volley of cruise missiles to blast the complex into smoldering ruins.

Mukuro’s mind was probably on other things than the tragic loss of her Ultimate Lab.

She wasn’t the only one who had to watch her stuff get blighted. Monokuma wasn’t targeting most of the other buildings specifically, but stray bombs and off-target rockets just sort of landed all over.

Dinner was brought, and it was really good. Care of the ‘Ultimate Chef’, the stuttering, bikini-clad nurse babe Mikan informed her. She was practically spilling out of that black bikini all over, god damn.

_If there’s one thing I can’t criticize about this island, it’s the room service._

“Thanks,” Kaede said. When that Mikan looked like she was going to faint, Kaede huffed. “I am capable of being nice, you know. When somebody’s not a useless moron. There just hasn’t been a lot of that today. You act all silly, but you’ve got a good head screwed on there. Otherwise, you’d never be able to handle all these sick idiots. Like me, heh.”

“T-T-Thanks…”

Mikan didn’t stick around for one second longer than she had to.

_Tch._

With a tenacity that Kaede might choose to call ‘bravery’, Monokuma flung so many of himself into battle. With so little heed for the way they were ripped apart.

Usami put up a very good defense, at first. However, no matter how many waves she cut down, it never made a dent in the supply of Monokumas. Bit by bit, they started slipping in and doing damage to the defenses, breaking through barriers, or taking out Usamis. While the white rabbits replenished their numbers too, there was clearly less of them. They had a better position, but with hours of persistent fighting, they were getting worn down.

It wasn’t possible for everyone to maintain the fear and shock of those first moments. Eventually, life in the hospital… adapted. Kaede wouldn’t say that everything went back to normal. She had no clue what normal was for these dysfunctional freaks, even outside of the Despair Disease and all the problems it created.

Even so, people couldn’t stay frightened forever. One of the more annoying aspects of humanity was how it could adapt to even a really bad situation, even when unable to change it.

Everyone just kinda learned to live with explosions in the background.

She even heard some of the Ultimates start talking about the battle like they discussed the weather, or a sports game. Mahiru’s announcing definitely lost some of its astonished quality, and become more normal, as she recorded more combat.

Always from a safe enough distance.

Like the detectives predicted, the Ultimates weren’t struck in this battle between larger forces. Both were working hard to keep the battle away from the hospital, although other areas of the island weren’t spared. Now, aside from the storm damage and flooding, there were going to be blast craters absolutely everywhere. The foot paths were awash in so much plushie blood, which formed pools in those craters, along with broken, tiny, cute stuffed bodies strewn about.

Buildings were hit by stray missiles or shots, and some, including the New World Library, were used by Usamis as a strongpoint. So Monokumas blew it up, levelling the library to the ground as nothing but rubble.

They took particular care to bust up the Usami statues inside, too.

Monokuma was cool, but he could also be the definition of the word petty. At least it was funny.

Shuichi clearly didn’t agree, but oh well. What he thought or wanted wasn’t as important as Kaede’s needs, and she made that clear to him from the start of this ‘new phase of their relationship’. “Shuichi. I know you guys are avoiding me, but if Gundham is sick, and still gets to make decisions and stuff, shouldn’t I get to? I’m not passing out or babbling nonsense or anything, and there was that whole ‘election’ thing.”

Shuichi waffled. “Well, um. You’re right that everyone is trying not to bother you with decisions now, but Kaede, I don’t know if it’s the best time…”

What an evasive, wishy-washy answer. “If nothing else, I can totally hear you guys in the hallway, or Gundham’s room next door. So it’s pointless to keep me out, anhow.”

That much was logic Shuichi couldn’t deny.

At least meetings started happening in Kaede’s room, too. She mostly tried to stay out of decision making until she had a greater impression of the island and its people. Even so, she could throw her weight around occasionally, which helped her feel better about being bedridden.

Other notable losses for the island included the Rocketpunch Supermarket, which caught on fire early. Usami couldn’t spare anybody to put out the fires, and the Ultimates didn’t dare save it, so their storehouse of supplies just sort of burned down. Everyone just had to hope Usami had a backup plan.

Or, if Monokuma won, that he brought stuff with him to help run the game he’d be setting up.

At first, Kaede assumed his victory was inevitable.

Especially given how fickle and, frankly, stupid, Usami was. Yet, she never ran out of vigor for the defense, fighting back for every inch, and pushing Monokuma back countless times. Between her copies, and the Exisals, she put up a strong showing.

Kaede should have been rooting for Monokuma more, probably. But the show, the spectacle, was just so not-boring. So not like everything else around here, she wished it would keep going.

It kept going.

For **days**.

Days of unending plushie warfare. Three days of collateral damage, of the island being turned into a smoke-choked hellscape. Three days of rough storms, choppy seas, and ships burning out on the water like beacons, day and night.

In the end, neither side faltered, or showed weakness.

The island was falling apart around them into a bomb-blasted warzone, yet that didn’t bother either of them. Even the danger to their precious ‘subjects’ or whatever came second to their battle.

A missile landed far too close to the hospital, threatening to blast some of the walls in and rattling windows and patients alike.

That was the last straw.

The little mage girl stamped right out of her room, out the hospital, and confronted both armies with the full power, and fury, of her magic.

If they weren’t going to stop, she’d have to stop them.

_**“Nyeh.”** _

With her weird catch phrase, she reached out, firing red energy bolts from the tips of her fingers!

The glowing bolts struck missiles out of the sky, causing them to burst overhead in a tremendous display of magical fireworks. Next, she targeted the fleet out there, smiting them with energy beams. Their steel hulls warped and melted into slag, forcing the remaining ships to retreat out of range and stop firing.

The Usamis cheered and celebrated, until they, too, were wiped out by beams, which swept entire sections of the island clean and turned them into boiling white-hot glass.

Nothing on either side of this absurd battle was spared, and no danger was allowed to come anywhere near the hospital again.

It was a sight so astounding, even the cynical Kaede had to sit up, take notice, and stare, jaw open.

She really fucking **smote** them.

Exactly the same way that Kaede once believed a God might smite sinners. Before she learned better, of course. Before she experienced, sometimes firsthand, how rotten this world and its people had become. Yet, even with that, she couldn't help feeling a swell of awe at this new display. While the massive armies clashing had been one thing, this... this was something entirely new.

Kaede could even call it inspiring, in a way.

The small strawberry of a girl simply obliterated both armies, over and over.

And over, and over.

"Are... huff... you both... huff..." Himiko huffed, "R-Ready to submit to my magical power?"

"Himiko! Only blast the Monokumas!" Hiyoko shouted, running out into danger, and therefore bringing her camera with jittering steps closer to the mage. "Why are you destroying both of them?!"

"They're both..." Himiko gasped, looking over into the camera and revealing her red, puffy face. Bands of sweat were pouring down her face, she didn't look good. "Responsible..."

Given how Usami had abandoned them with scarcely more than some supplies, and not given any answers about any of this yet, it wasn't hard to see why Himiko resented her too. This destructive conflict was ripping the island apart, and putting a stop to it had to come first.

Even if it _was_ fun to watch this whole place burn.

"Sheesh, cut it out!" The nearest Monokuma roared, red eye glowing with anger. He didn't dare come any closer with those shiny steel claws, though. "You're ruining my big re-debut! I've got to make a better impression this time, or everyone will forget about me."

As if anyone could forget Monokuma.

He was, like, iconic.

"This battle can only end when Monokuma's evil is purged from this world," Usami declared in a manner she doubtless found very heroic. She struck a pose with tiny, stubby hands on her tutu-clad hips.

"If you both are gonna keep causing trouble, then I'll blast you all to ashes," Himiko threatened, voice still deadpan. "As many times as it takes. Come on, how much do you guys have left, anyhow?”

Usami and Monokuma both sweatdropped. "Um, not a whole lot," Monokuma admitted sheepishly. "Just enough to cover the entire planet a hundred million times, or so."

“... Nyeh?”

"That's about how many I have left, too," Usami agreed.

Himiko glared at them. "If you're going to lie to the Amazing Himiko, you'd better be prepared for the consequences. I'll cast the 'nobody will laugh at your stand-up routines' curse!"

Why did both of the stuffed animals recoil at _that?_

"Look, morons. Maybe if you guys explained literally anything about why this is all going on, we'd understand better," Hiyoko suggested, showing absolutely no fear in the face of three angry godlike entities, who all turned to look at her now. "I mean, like. Is this really accomplishing anything at all?"

Smart kid. Plus, she knew when to tell people they were being stupid. An all too critically rare trait in today's world.

Apparently, the stuffed animals agreed.

"Okay, look," Monokuma said. "Ceasefire! Truce! Let's stop shooting at each other. I don't want Himiko to blow up even more of my precious Monokumas."

"I'll agree to a truce," Usami said, "Purely because I'm worried about my precious student pushing herself too far."

"Don't patronize me, you weird-ass rabbit!"

"However, I won't permit you to speak to the students, or try to influence them in evil ways!" Usami proclaimed.

"Gonna be tough to have a meeting if one of the participants can't speak."

Yeah, Ibuki had a point, there-

_Ibuki?!_

The punk rocker, missing the mask pretty much everyone was supposed to be wearing, appeared without any warning next to Himiko. That made her jump. Her black witch's hat flew several centimeters off Himiko's head, before settling back down.

"I mean, that's what we always end up doing, right? Call a big group meeting, and talk about stuff endlessly."

“Have a meeting, with Monokuma?!" Usami shook her head. "That's something I definitely can't allow, no matter what! Monokuma is only here to spread despair. If he has something to tell any of you, then it has to be a lie. A trick to make you all hate and kill each other!"

"Some of that remark is true," Monokuma said, "Yet, that's still pretty offensive to assume I'm here just to make everyone kill their friends. Like I can’t also have other motives for what I do? Don't assume things just because I'm half black! On my mother's side."

_Heh._

"Hang on," Usami objected, "Just to be clear, this definitely isn't a race thing."

"It's more suspicious if you deny it like that," Himiko observed, squinting.

"More than that, is everything Monokuma says really just a lie?" Mahiru had been keeping away, since she was possessed of basic human reason. But if Hiyoko and Ibuki just wandered up in the midst of this scorched, smoldering war-zone, she had to go ahead. If for no other reason to try and help them, presumably.

_Ah well, nobody's perfect._

She was still smokin' hot, in a girl-next-door way.

In fact, this island was packed with almost universally galactic-level hottie girls. Most of the guys were way more than ‘okay’, too. Why was that?

They still understood so little.

"What do you mean, Miss Koizumi?!" Usami bristled. "Of course! It has to be. Monokuma's only goal is despair."

"But that doesn't necessarily mean every word he says is useless," Mahiru insisted, hands on her own hips now. She looked down on Usami, and lectured her. "I mean, we've proven before you're keeping stuff from us. Not telling us things, or actually just lying to us. You leave without so much as a word about why, you don't warn us any of this was happening. Not to mention, more to the point..."

Hiyoko finished for her. "The memories. Monokuma told us something real interesting last time, remember?"

Luckily, Ibuki was on hand to recount, word-for-word, what was said.

_Musician power, bitches._

Usami blanched, somehow turning even more white than before. "T-That... everyone, you have to trust me, and not trust Monokuma. Everything could unravel, otherwise. This world, the New World-"

"Sheesh, don't give too much away!" Monokuma chided her. "At least so early. Where the hell's your sense of dramatic pacing! Come on, Usami. It sounds like the kiddos wanna hear what I have to say. Or at least, they're not all prepared to hate and fear me just because you say so!"

"That's right!" Ibuki grinned, showing rows of gleaming white teeth. And a long gremlin nose...? "Ibuki hates and fears you because you're like, pure evil! Not because anyone told her to."  
  
Monokuma sniffed. "Aw man. Ibuki, you're just saying that to make me feel better."  
  
“No, no~ Not at all, man. You’re really awful in your own right. Ibuki is too nice and honest, though. I can't see why Hajime or Mahiru won't just get with me, already~"

Mahiru turned as red as her hair, which just magnified her cuteness even more.

“L-Let's stop acting like children. Just sit down and talk about this. It's clear neither of you are going to beat the other, but people are gonna get hurt. Neither of you wants to just blow us away, or you'd have done it. So let's find a new way together. Jeez."

It wasn’t much of a group meeting with half the island out of action. Luckily they kept the cameras rolling for people like Kaede.

The sheer absurdity alone would make the meeting wildly entertaining to watch.

Plus, it would decide everyone’s fate.

Everyone included Kaede, which meant this did actually matter.

They met in central park, just like that first day.

The statue commemorating the island had been hit, and was crumbling. It was uncovered, but the sky, though it remained a blanket of grim grey clouds stretching to the horizon, paused its barrage. Even so, canvas roofs on poles were set up, along with tables and chairs.

On one side of the gathering sat Monokuma, while Usami could only tolerate sitting on the other end of the group. This left the Ultimates sandwiched between, sitting in haphazard rows of folding chairs. They didn’t go by classes or anything anymore. Distinctions like that seemed pointless in the face of the greater dangers outside, so they sat shoulder-to-shoulder.

_Must be nice not to hack your lungs out every half hour._

_It’s not even my lungs that hurt anymore. I’m used to that. It’s the violent shaking motion on my head. Those fucking artillery shells and whatever sure didn’t help that._

Sitting out front was the only semblance of leadership that didn’t have the Despair Disease. Mukuro, the Ultimate Soldier. She looked profoundly uncomfortable up there at the front table, presiding over everyone. Or maybe she was just tensed up, expecting the violence to start again at any moment.

Even though her sister had gone nuts, it looked like she was dedicated to protecting everyone.

The only other leadership figure there was Angie, Ultimate Artist and Con Woman.

She was sitting atop the table rather than at it. Seiza-style, arms clasped together in prayer. No doubt, hoping to use even this meeting as a chance to evangelize or save somebody’s soul or something.

If Kaede pretended she was watching a TV show with fictional characters, she could handle all this over-the-top nonsense.

“Before we begin, there’s one thing I need to confirm.” Usami said. She leaned closer in to her mic. “Monokuma! I won’t permit a Killing Game here. Even if I have to destroy this island in the battle, I won’t let them go through that horror yet again!”

“Yet again?!” Leon echoed from the front row.

“Destroy the island?!” Kazuichi panicked from the back.

The gathering erupted into nervous murmuring.

“When did Usami get so… militant?” Mahiru said to herself. Which meant she said it to camera, the viewpoint for the other half of the group who couldn’t get live seating.

Rantaro, seated right beside her, said, “She got like this when Monokuma showed up last time, remember? It’s like a switch flipped, and all that ‘wet’s snuggle and get awong’ stuff just sort of goes off. Like a programmed response. Or maybe she just really hates him.”

“Hard to blame her,” Hiyoko muttered from Mahiru’s other side, leaning into her in a manner one could call childish and friendly. If they were being generous, and not seeing where she was resting her head. “Hate is usually a good idea, especially towards homicidal bears.”

“They almost sound like ex-lovers. With that familiar tone, talking about things nobody else gets, the anger...” Mahiru coughed. “ _Ahem_. Viewers, this is an amazing development. It looks like we’re finally going to get some answers, after all this time. A month of mysteries, unfolding right before our eyes!”

“While it’s annoying to have to admit this so openly,” Monokuma said into his own stylish black-and-white handheld mic, “I’m cool with that. I’m not here for a Killing Game this time. Swear.”

“He’s not?” Peko asked. Mahiru turned the camera to look at Peko and Fuyuhiko, who were sitting together on one edge of the gathering. As the meeting progressed, she kept going that every so often, even when neither of them said anything.

“You’re not?” Usami’s disbelief was clear in her tone. “Sure you’re not, you monster. Then why did you come here? To give everyone cookies?”

“Well, if anyone wants a taste of Motherkuma’s Chocolate And Human Blood Cookies, all they have to do is hit me up~” Monokuma giggled. “My mom’s cookies are out of this world. Ahem. In reality, I’m here to save the Ultimates from you, Usami.”

“Save… them? From me?!” Usami glared. “Can’t you get serious for once?!”

Monokuma grinned.

Which is what Kaede called turning his head slightly to feature the side with that massive grin already splitting his face.

“I am serious. That’s why you don’t want me to speak with the Ultimates too much, right? You’re worried what they might think if I flip this little ‘paradise’ on its head, and reveal the truth.”

“I won’t be fooled by your empty threats anymore!” Usami huffed. “Nobody here would believe a word you say, anyhow.”

“Atua does want me to point out that you did try to kill us all,” Angie pointed out.

“That’s fair.” Monokuma nodded calmly. Totally unfazed, even casual as he talked about that first day of fire and chaos. “Although if we want to get technical, I tried to make you all kill each other. I very specifically told the Monosals not to target anyone. Even as you guys beat the stuffing out of them. Which was pretty awesome, by the way.”

“That was like something out of a movie,” Mahiru said to herself. “Was it even real, or was I imagining all that?”

Kyouko shook her head. “You know what I think already. Just make sure every word they say is recorded. Even slip-ups or minor remarks they make could prove incredibly important, Mahiru.”

“Y-You’re right. Got it.”

Angie raised her hand. “Okay, then. So if you’re here to ‘save’ us, from Usami, then what do you say Usami is doing that’s bad? Aside from a little neglectful parenting, Angie can’t say she’s done anything close to as bad as you, Monokuma.”

“I’m glad you finally asked, Atua. Or was that one from Angie?”

Angie smiled, serene. “Angie and Atua are one and the same.”

All the Black Hats bowed their heads in a moment of prayer, at this.

“Yeesh. And I thought door-to-door evangelists were terrifying,” Monokuma giggled. “Puhuhu. The main thing I want to do, is cure all that pesky amnesia you guys have. All of it. Not in slow-gradual stages, like what Usami is doing. All at once, pow, presto, blamo. Memories back.”

Silence fell on the gathering for several moments, and all eyes were now on him.

“Oh ho. I figured that might be a nice treat to start things off. You know, reverse Usami’s brainwashing. That’s what I meant.”

“Don’t you dare!” Usami said. “Monokuma, I’m not staggering the flashback lights because of narrative drama. I’m taking so long because memory loss of this magnitude can be dangerous. Getting everything back too fast could be a lot worse than taking it easy!”

“Dangerous for whom, I wonder?” Monokuma shrugged.

“Mikan, what do you think about all this?” Chihiro prompted his fellow believer, and the point of view shifted to see Mikan from behind. “This is kind of a medical issue.”

Goddamn.

A lot of the others turned to her as well. She definitely wasn’t doing so well, with the days of keeping everyone breathing. Even with volunteers helping out, she worked herself ragged. She managed to look more miserable than her usual, and was visibly shaky.

“W-Well, this would just be my own opinion, but… um… It should be impossible to cause such targeted memory loss, or just… cure it with a flashlight. So I think what’s been happening has been, um. A little above my head. I’m not good for much of anything, except worshiping Angie. And Atua, of course.”

“Kids these days,” Monokuma scoffed. “So typical of Generation Z. If something’s a little outside your own personal range of experiences, you shut your eyes and go ‘la la la, I’m not listening’. How blinkered! Clearly, Usami just has technology you don’t. Well, so do I.”

“I’m not letting you do anything that you please,” Usami said. “So it’s a moot point whether or not you could do it. I won’t let you! The fact that you want to do it proves it’s bad.”

“Let’s say we ask everyone, and convince them and all that. Even if the Ultimates end up agreeing that my way’s the best in the end, you’ll still block me?” Monokuma asked.

Usami looked over at the Ultimates, and saw their expressions. The way they were looking at her, the way they were starting to look at Monokuma. It was a subtle thing, but if Kaede saw it, there was no way that white plushie could ignore it.

Yet, she pushed on.

“I’m their professor. Their guardian. I provide for them, and I provide for their security, as well. That means if something’s going to hurt them, I’ll remove it. No matter what. No matter what anyone says.”

“How inflexible,” Monokuma said. “Man, Usami just admitted to your faces she doesn’t give a single solitary damn what you think.”

_What a splendid strategy._

While Monokuma had a low approval rating among those ignorant Ultimates who didn’t understand his brilliance, that didn’t mean every single one of his words just bounced off people. Not when they were so effectively chosen to spread doubt. Most importantly, they had a lot of effect because they were obviously true.

Their hated enemy was speaking truths and offering them something. While their supposed ally and protector was demanding obedience like a god, asserting her will above their own, and throwing a tantrum.

“That is indeed the mindset of a dictator,” Kiyo hugged himself in delight at the scene unfolding before him, in a rather creepy way. Apparently, that was his usual. “It is a very effective approach, when coupled with absolute power. However, Usami. Can your power really be called ‘absolute’ anymore? I wonder.”

“I-If it’s a fight, then I won’t lose again!” Usami insisted.

“No, you haven’t lost for days,” Mukuro said. “But Monokuma hasn’t lost, either. It doesn’t matter how many of you are destroyed, or what weapons are used. All you’re achieving is conflict without end, and without objective.”

“In a way, I guess you could say that what you want is no longer the most important thing, Usami!” Angie cheerfully informed her, clapping. “Or at least, that there are now other considerations. If you just keep fighting, the island, and all of us, will perish. That kiiiinda goes against the whole guardian thing, right?”

“‘It became necessary to destroy the town to save it’,” Rantaro muttered darkly.

“There’s no way Usami would go that far,” Mahiru insisted. “Right?”

“I dunno,” Hiyoko said. “When you make Monokuma look like the voice of reason, you’ve seriously fucked up.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re gonna buy anything you’re selling, either, Monokuma,” Leon warned. “I’m not your ordinary, everyday fool, okay? We just aren’t gonna trust either of you unless you, I dunno, prove what you say.”

“Oh, I could prove it quite easily,” Monokuma said. “But,” He added, after glancing over at a fuming Usami venting puffs of angry air, “Doing it all in one go would be kinda lame. It’s not like I’m tired from fighting this stupid rabbit, or anything. I just think the dramatic pacing would be better if we spread it out… just a little. Fortunately, that process has already begun.”

“It has?” Kyouko asked. “Are you referring to the flashback lights?”

“No, no, no!” Monokuma laughed. “I’m talking about the Despair Disease, of course! I’m talking about how some of the symptoms cause, or are triggered by, memory recovery!”

“You’ve got to be joking,” Kazuichi said. “So… some of us are already getting memories back?!”

“Bingo! And if it’s not accompanied with other symptoms, then the person could pass as totally normal, too! That’s why it’s too late to put the genie back in the bottle. Unless Usami wants to brainwash you all again. Which she’s totally considering, even as we speak. Things have gone so far off the rails for poor Usami… shame I’m here now, and I won’t allow that, either. A game reset is absolutely unacceptable after we’ve come so far together. Even if we have another, what, fifty-”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Usami said. “Don’t say anything about that, or I’ll start it again right now! That topic is off limits, too!”

Monokuma sighed. “What can I tell them?”

“You can tell them you’re leaving, and never coming back!”

“But I’m not a liar like you, Usami, so I couldn’t say something like that~ Puhuhu.”

“Enough,” Nagito insisted with rare forcefulness. “There’s an issue we still need to address. The traitors. Monokuma, what, exactly, are you planning on having them do? There was that incident with the military base, and-”

“Oh, come on, that’s old hat. That was a motive I put in place for the sake of the Killing Game. But that no longer applies, soooo... forget about it.”

“Forget about it?!” Shuichi reacted about like Kaede would expect. Like a bitch- “Somebody in our midst might be setting us up right now, on your orders. You have agents among us, and we’re supposed to forget it and make nice?”

“Are you gonna make me say this too? Really?” Monokuma threw up his arms. “Read the room, guys. The traitors are fake! To quote the reason I lost the last goddamn time, that checkerboard clown midget, _It’s a lie!_ I literally just made it up to fuck with all of you! Fictional! The number of traitors working for me on this island is zero!”

Everyone stared at him.

Any ground Monokuma started to make, evaporated. Even Kaede could see that from her hospital bed.

“Then what happened at my Ultimate Lab?” Mukuro asked, before anyone else had recovered from the shock. “Who broke in? Who stole the weapons? We have proof the traitors are preparing for an attack.”

Monokuma wagged a paw at her. “You have proof that somebody broke in and stole guns and ammo. Do you have proof that it was a traitor who did it? And if that’s your only proof, then…~”

“You can’t expect us to believe this,” Kyouko said.

“No, I know you won’t buy this, but it’s that so vaunted Truth brand you love so much, little miss detective. Well, it’s not like I can prove the absence of something! Even a god would have trouble doing something that illogical. And I’m not God! Yet. I’m workin’ on it.”

Everyone looked around at each other.

_Oh man._

_Even getting an answer that should be ideal for them just leads to more paranoia and mistrust. Everyone seems like they kinda forgot about the ‘traitor’ thing, but with this now?_

_Especially combined with the reveal that some people may already have their memories back, but be hiding it from the group?_

_If these guys thought they knew paranoia, they haven’t seen anything yet._

_Monokuma’s going to have the sands running pink with real blood without even using the Killing Game. What a pro!_

“Okaaay,” Angie stood up, waving her arms back and forth. “Atua’s taking a nap right now, so unfortunately, I can’t say for sure whether Monokuma’s just lying. But if we can’t prove something isn’t there… how about we try proving the things that are there?”

“The memories,” Shuichi shook his head. “Angie, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to just-”

“So! If you’re starting to get your old memories back, and it wasn’t caused by a flashback light or getting a lab or anything, please step forward now!”

Shockingly, nobody stepped forward.

Well, there was one weird guy with brown sea-urchin hair, like a huge afro. Kaede didn’t recognize him, but that was probably just her own memory being messed up. Nobody else seemed to know him, either. They stared at him in surprise, as if they hadn’t even noticed he was there.

“Actually, my memory ain’t great still, but I can see what’s going on. Like, with my special sight. I can see it all.”

“Who the hiddly-diddly heck are you?” Monokuma tilted his head.

“Oh, come on! Not you too!” The man had tears in his eyes. “I thought you and Usami might at least be able to remember meeee! God damnit! Nobody even reacted much at all when I just walked out my room and came to join the meeting. It’s getting worse! Soon, I’ll be like, invisible, or something! You know what?! Forget this. If you all can’t listen to my brilliance, I’ll just go somewhere else! Somewhere with blackjack, and hookers!”

“Casino’s torched too,” Leon said. “And the Titty Typhoon. Damn dirty plushies. They blew it up… they blew it all up… damn them… damn them all to hell…”

Shockingly, nobody stepped forward.

“Aw.” Angie squished her cheeks together. “Come on, guys! Can’t we just do something the easy way for once?”

Sayaka raised her hand. “Angie? May I speak up?”

“Of course! Any beloved follower is welcome to contribute.”

“Thank you.” The idol got to her feet gracefully, in spite of the fact that she was only wearing a bikini, just like the rest of those cultist freaks. At least she looked amazing in it. “Ahem. This tense standoff isn’t something we can just let go on. So! Both Usami and Monokuma want something from us, they don’t want to hurt us directly, and they both say they want to help us. Even though Monokuma, uh, is clearly lying. A lot.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry to put it like that? But we did almost all die because of you?”

“... Okay, if you’re gonna put it like that…”

Usami puffed up. “Finally! They’re all going to tell that stupid bear off, and we can get back to my carefully-programmed rehabilitation procedures.”

Sayaka turned towards her, hands clasped tightly together. “Um, Miss Usami? There’s been certain issues with your own behavior as well. Both lately, and… throughout.”

Watching the blue-haired girl be so exceedingly polite to these stuffed animals made Kaede roll out of her hospital bed in amusement.

Which was actually really painful.

_Fuck._

“I have a suggestion. Why can’t… both of you live here on this island? It doesn’t seem like you brought anyone from the Hunt with you, Monokuma. Just endless copies?”

‘That’s right,” Monokuma said. “An army to liberate these islands! ‘I came through, and I shall return’! All that stuff I said last time.”

“You never said anything like that,” Ibuki pointed out.

“Quiet down, punk!” Monokuma coughed. “Ahem. If it means an end to this endless fighting, and that I’ll get my fair shake, then I’m totally down with, like, agreeing to stop. Turning our swords into plowshares and all that mushy crap.”

Usami shook her head. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Monokuma is the embodiment of human sin and failing! How could you possibly agree to let him… stay here?! Ever?!”

“Usami, dear Usami.” Nagito shook his head. “Our flaws are a part of us too. Well, that’s just what I think, so don’t mind me. Not dying also sounds like a better plan than dying. Not that I would ever try to tell everyone how to think, or anything.”

Nice and subtle there, buddy.

Sayaka said, “Usami, we’re not asking you to trust Monokuma. In fact, if you’re right, then it’s more important than ever for you to explain things to us. As you promised before the battle. Stay with us, this time. Please don’t go. Many of us, like myself, want to believe in you, and place our trust in this ‘hope’ you talk about.” She looked aside. “We just need… to be able to. You can give us that. But fighting isn’t the answer.”

Usami stared at the gathering for a long time.

She finally nodded. “Fine. I’ll disable the island’s defense systems, for now. Just know there’s some lines you won’t be able to cross, Monokuma. Not while I’m here, defending the Ultimates.”

“Same to you, _bub_ ,” Monokuma replied, voice equally strained with annoyance. “There are some things I won’t let happen, like a system reset. Otherwise… let’s be…. Friends?”

“Let’s tolerate each other until the peace fails,” Usami amended.

“Deal.”

Thus ended the Siege of Gopher Island.

The war was far from over, and despite this accommodation, it really was just to avoid killing everyone. Rather than some heartfelt desire for peace, thankfully.

_If it’s always chaotic and crazy, I guess that would become the new normal. Gotta break up the tension every so often, right?_

The island was in ruins.

Not every single building had been levelled, but the majority of structures were damaged. It was less some deliberate effort to level Gopher Island, and more just because of all the bombs flying around. A few had to end up going wide.

At her insistence that she was already feeling better, and was still an elected leader whether the shits approved of her personality or not, Kaede hosted the leadership briefing afterwards.

It helped that Gundham was already able to walk on his own, at least to come next door and join in the meeting. For the first time since the outbreak almost a week ago, the Council had enough people to function.

Two.

Mukuro was there just in case, but clearly happy to shrug off this burden. Angie managed to find her way into the meeting, too. The Black Hats, whose core membership was free of infection and able to work, had to be kept sweet at any cost.

Kaede still held her former attitude towards Angie. In fact, it was more intense than ever. Yet, she couldn’t just tell the little half-naked bobblehead to leave.

Mainly because whenever Kaede said anything mean, Angie pretended she couldn’t hear it. “Out of charity for the sick, just like what Atua would want~”

_Little shit._

“Ahem.” Gundham retained the ability to speak like a human being, although he intoned his voice dramatically. Another sign that his recovery was on the right path, while Kaede still produced metric gallons of snot. “I will lead us off with the two critical subjects we need to discuss. The rapid recovery of some patients, to the point that Mikan wants to turn some of them loose for the sake of not literally dying of exhaustion. And the damage to the island and its facilities, and how that’s going to affect our life here.” Gundham nodded to Kyouko. “Please proceed.”

“I’ve been conducting active and passive observations, and even experiments, to understand the Despair Disease. My investigation has cooperated extensively with Mikan’s work.” Mikan nodded beside her, arms clasped tightly together. The Ultimate Nurse really did look like she was barely on her feet.

“How’d that work out for you two?” Kaede asked.

Kyouko didn’t even blink as she reported, “We failed completely.”

Kaede sighed. “Fantastic.”

Kaede couldn’t call herself impressed with either Ultimate Detective. At least Kyouko acted like she had a spine in there. Not like that weak bastard Shuichi. Who, predictably, took this chance to jump in. “Things aren’t so simple, Kaede. Kyouko and Mikan both worked really hard-”

“I-It’s okay,” Mikan whimpered. “If only I was able to isolate the virus, we might have a b-breakthrough by now. If only I wasn’t so clumsy, and stupid…”

Angie reached over and kissed her, right there in front of the gathering.

There was a lot of uncomfortable shuffling. But just like with the bikinis, it was just something people apparently had to get used to, going forward. If nothing else, Angie was great at training other people to accept things they could write off as her ‘foreign eccentricity’.

“There, there. You’ve already done a super-duper job, Angie can hardly believe it. Right, everyone?~”

Nobody could argue that Mikan had stepped up to the plate. Or honestly get mad that she hadn’t cured such a weird, bullshit disorder in literally a week.

“Right! So perhaps we could decide on giving Mikan the authority to discharge patients, once they’re totally all better?~”

Gundham was hesitant to take that kind of step, but Kaede brought him around to the idea. On a personal level, it meant he’d get out of his hospital sooner.

What was in it for Kaede?It might lead to more trouble and issues down the road. Something fun. The nice thing about not giving a shit and just wanting to be entertained was that you could do what you want, free of smothering expectations and rules.

“Government organizations can take years to isolate a disease strain, much less develop vaccines or cures,” Kyouko remarked. That was about as close as she got to a reassuring pat on the back. “Particularly if my theory is right, then there may be nothing anyone can do. At least, nobody down here. So don’t blame yourself, Mikan.”

Aw, with her hopeful egg on the shelf, Kyouko had to step up and actually say something nice, once in a blue moon. Character development, huh-

“You’re right, Kyouko! We have to put our faith in Atua!”

“The second item,” Kyouko moved on without so much as a glance over at Angie, “Shuichi’s damage report. Now that the battle stopped, it wasn’t hard to go and tally what facilities were hit. Security has assembled a mostly complete list.”

It wasn’t good, for them.

Kaede personally thought the wide-ranging damage might spice things up, especially since her world was already confined to this dumb hospital bed until she got better.

“Some buildings were untouched, but they’re the rare exception,” Shuichi explained, consulting his notepad.

“I’ll review those first. My Ultimate Lab, along with the Labs belonging to Touko, Kiyo, Sayaka, Peko, and Leon, all made it without a scratch. All others sustained some level of damage. Poor Teruteru is basically on suicide watch, after what happened to the Lagniappe… Ahem. Among other facilities, the Prison was apparently hit, but just… shrugged it off. I wish everything was built like that. Those old ruins we woke up in made it, too. Electric Avenue wasn’t really any more ruined than it started. The Route 53 roadside diner also wasn’t hit. That fully concludes the buildings that survived intact.”

Not a big list, considering how many places there were on these islands.

Only Usami knew if places on the other islands had taken damage, too, before the Ultimates had even gotten a chance to check them out. What a mess.

“Ah, that reminds me.” Shuichi snapped. “Kaito wants us to deliver supplies to Maki before she runs out. I’ll take care of that after this meeting.”

Gundham chuckled. “I wonder how she felt about the apocalypse outside?”

“You’re so considerate, Shuichi,” Kaede remarked sourly. “At least, towards other girls who aren’t your actual girlfriend.”

Shuichi wasn’t like Kyouko, he couldn’t just keep rolling along when something like that was put in his way. He didn’t trip and fall over, though. He just took a moment to compose himself, and then kept going with his report.

“M-Most buildings on the island sustained damage, and have broken roofs or walls or fire damage from the bombardment. This includes the bathhouse inn, with some rooms surviving and able to be occupied. And the movie theater, which is about half-standing. All buildings I don’t mention in other categories fall here. I suggest we forbid occupancy in any building with structural damage. They pose a risk of collapsing at any time. Most need repairs we’re not equipped to make. Usami has the Exisals and her clones working on it already, though.

And finally, some places were just leveled.

New World Library and the Rocketpunch Supermarket are gone, along with the information and supplies therein. From the Ultimate Labs, Celeste, Togami, Teruteru, and worst of all, Sakura, all lost everything.” Shuichi looked down. “That includes the family scroll I found, and gave to her. While Teruteru’s meltdown is more public, Sakura’s withdrawn from public life too. Combined with what happened with Hina, she’s… under a lot of stress. And, I’m obligated to point out, the only ‘big guy’ we have left in case trouble breaks out.”

“We just think of her as some unstoppable mountain, but Sakura’s as human as anyone,” Gundham said, shaking his head. ‘She believes as strongly in honor and family as Mondo, if not much more so.” Which was impressive, given how Mondo would never shut up about his cool older brother Daiya. “A blow like this must be devastating.”

“We’ll discuss damage to people later,” Kaede chided then. “That’s a lot more complicated than blown-up stuff, genius.”

“R-Right. Sorry. Both beaches are just wastelands now thanks to the constant battle. The Ross House on Chandler Beach didn’t survive. In fact, that traffic tunnel leading there was collapsed by Usami’s forces, rendering the entire area completely inaccessible. All three of the hotel complexes we stay in are gone. Along with personal possessions therein.”

That would be a big blow to some. Kaede herself liked to horde gifts and strange objects, and give them to people to get closer to them. Well, that was the old her. Kaede didn’t know the version of herself before the Disease well enough to care. So a stranger’s stuff wasn’t exactly a tragedy to Kaede.

It was comedy.

“That means our gifts and items are mostly wiped out, and both sources of getting more have gone up in smoke.” Shuichi sounded broke up about it, too, maybe he did the same thing. “Fortunately, Chihiro managed to recover her special project on her laptop,” Shuichi said. “In fact, she ran back into the complex as it was being bombed to get her.”

“It’s amazing what one can do, with the strength Atua gifts us,” Angie nodded approvingly.

“She nearly died!” Shuichi couldn’t let that one go.

Angie didn’t drop her smile, or let it falter one bit. That only made it seem more fake, though, as she looked up, eyes half-blocked by her snow-white hair, at an object of her… annoyance. On that, at least, they could agree. “Atua would never have told her to go out there, if she would have been hit. It’s that simple, Shuichi. It all turned out okay, so don’t sweat the details.”

Shuichi covered his mouth, presumably to avoid starting a fight right there in the hospital room. Heh. “S-So, Alter Ego lives on in the hospital’s futuristic computer system.”

“Hang on. Alter Ego?” Kaede echoed. “What’s that? Why haven’t I heard of this before?”

The explanation she did get sounded like fiction. Pure fantasy. A fucking AI?! Made on Chihiro’s laptop in a few weeks of spare time?! If they didn’t want to tell her the real story, fine.

She’d find out soon enough through her own methods.

“Furthermore, Mukuro’s army base was one of the first places destroyed, as Usami was using it as a staging area for her weird army,” Shuichi continued. “I’m sorry, Mukuro.”

“I wasn’t exactly attached to that place,” Mukuro replied. “It was a bother, and it cost resources to guard.”

“We still need to ask Usami why she thought actual guns and bombs were fun toys to include in our little slice of paradise,” Gundham said. “Either she knew about the attack beforehand, and failed to warn us, or she just thinks machine guns are all part of a balanced bachelor’s degree program. But that can wait, at least for now. I’ve got to admit, I’m glad it’s gone, too.”

“Do you think Monokuma was telling the truth?” Angie asked. “About there being no traitors. Atua says that’s probably the truth we’ve been working so hard to find.”

“It’s impossible to go off just that,” Kyouko shot back. “His answer would be the same, whether or not there are traitors. We shouldn’t eat each other with paranoia, but we should be… ready. Especially given how traitors won’t be our only concern.”

Everyone was pushed to the brink over the past week of chaos and stress.

Even people who meant well, unlike Kaede, could just be pushed too far. Especially in light of the third item they had to discuss… the memories.

“Monokuma isn’t allowed to do full memory-restores,” Kyouko said. “However, what he said about ‘helping’ us ‘recover memories’ is bothering me. Along with his suggestion that some of us already have, and are keeping it a secret.”

_Bwoing._

_Holy shit!_

_That’s Monokuma. An actual Monokuma, right here. Be still, my beating heart._

“Monokuma!” Gundham tensed up. Mukuro drew a combat knife and took a wide stance, even as Monokuma tossed up his paws.

“Hey now! Hey now, hey now! I thought I was allowed to stay on this island, what’s with the pointed reception?” Kaede wasn’t sure how he did it, because there no snare drums in sight, but he managed to produce the sound of a rimshot regardless. “I come in peace! Honest!”

“You were not invited to this meeting,” Angie pointed out, breezy and cheerful as ever.

“In fact, you and Usami were both told to keep away,” Kyouko added. “This is a discussion for the Ultimates.”

Monokuma pointed towards a small glass orb on the ceiling. “Usami’s got cameras all over the island. She’s spying on you more than Obama was. And has even more drones! Now that I’ve hacked her system and ‘powned her’, as you kids say, I’ve got access to all that, too. Plus, we’ve got real good ears. Like Kaede on steroids.”

 _There_ was a mental image only suitable for niche fanart.

“The long and the short of it is, we’ll probably know what you say regardless.”

“Is that supposed to make us feel better?!” Gundham demanded.

“I’m just pointing out that unless we’re busy fighting each other, you can’t really ‘get away’ from us,” Monokuma said. “And even if everything I just said is total hogwash, you can’t afford to assume that. You’ll have to assume, going forward, that me and Usami just kinda know what’s going on.”

Kaede didn’t mind that, but everyone else sure had a hard time accepting that idea. Maybe they just didn’t like that their tiny bit of power, holding a private meeting, had been crashed in such a cruel fashion.

_Splendidly done, Monokuma. Show these idiots what despair is all about._

“Why did you come here?” Shuichi asked. “Surely, it wasn’t to confirm that Usami spies on us.”

“Well, making sure you all know it for a fact is useful for me, and it’ll make you hate that white rabbit more. But no. I just wanted to let you guys know something in advance, since you’re the leaders and stuff. Call it a bit of professional courtesy. Of the kind that Usami clearly doesn’t feel obligated to give.”

“I think what’s most insulting about this is that you can’t even be bothered to hide your motives,” Gundham said. “Or is this what passes for honesty? Whatever. Kaede, should we hear what the bear has to say?”

“Sure,” Kaede chirped. Then she realized that sounded a little too eager, and she probably didn’t want the others to realize she was, uh. A bit of a Monokuma fan. Just a little bit. So she added, sounding more bored, “We can’t stop it anyhow, and I’ve never been one to fight the inevitable.”

“You used to be,” Shuichi muttered under his breath.

Perhaps the Ultimate Detective forgot that she had really good ears. Kaede would fucking remember that.

_You dickless son of a bitch._

“So, Usami’s got her own views on the whole memory issue,” Monokuma said. “I recognize that. But those views are stupid, so I’ll disregard them. I can’t give you guys what was stolen all in one go. Honestly, I don’t even want to anymore. That racist whitey at least had a point there, even if she needs to get with the times.”

“But you’re going to do something else to stir up trouble?” Kaede asked, hopefully.

“Of course! Not! There’s no way I’d do it just to fuck with you all. I’m just going to take the measures I believe are necessary. Usami can have her facts, and I can have mine! Mine will just involve, well. Let’s start out with something fun. How much do you guys really know about the people you’ve been forced to share an island with?”

“I know some of them quite intimately,” Angie giggled.

Mikan blushed and covered her face.

“You sure do,” Monokuma winced. “I’m not talking about that, though! Not specifically. I mean there’s a lot of buried dirt on this island. A lot of things that haven’t come to light. This town needs an enema! You can’t move forward into ‘your future’ until it all comes out! Therefore! I’m gonna air some serious dirty laundry. It’ll jog your memories in a more organic way then just forcing it with the Lights.”

“Dirty laundry?” Shuichi echoed. “As in, people's secrets? You’re going to announce them to everyone?!”

“Precisely.” Monokuma nodded proudly.

**“Tomorrow at nightfall, I’ll announce via the island’s systems a heart-pounding broadcast. Containing a startling secret, fun fact, or interesting tidbit about each and every one of ya!”**

Yet again, he’d rendered a bunch of Ultimates into stunned silence.

“So buckle up, because some of those walls we construct in our modern, isolating world are gonna come crashing down. That’s the island spirit I want to construct! One where emotions run like water, and maaaaaybe also a little blood! Ahahahahaha!”

Mukuro struck like a coiled-up viper.

She jammed that big-ass knife through Monokuma’s head, and the stuffed plushie twitched as its systems failed. Sparks flew from the gash, as did more of that hopefully-fake but very hot-pink stuff.

“Mukuro!?” Gundham took step back in shock. “What are you doing?”

“I hope that’s obvious,” She replied, voice practically robotic. When she looked up at everyone else, those icy blue eyes weren’t windows into a human soul anymore. They were a glimpse at a Mukuro had that switched into ‘combat mode’.

Even Kaede couldn't help a shiver.

“Monokuma was always our enemy. I won’t let him to do this.”

A beeping noise filled the stunned silence of Kaede’s hospital suite.

She glanced over towards all the health equipment stuff and computers, but they were all normal. None were going off.

_Weird._

Kyouko was the first one to realize where it was coming from.

Everyone else would react too slowly. She ran over towards the nearest window herself, shoving past Gundham and knocking the hapless animal breeder over. Considering he was pretty coordinated himself, that was no mean feat-

“Mukuro, toss it! **Now**!”

The Ultimate Soldier instantly hoisted up the destroyed Monokuma unit, and tossed it like a football. Its monochrome furred body sailed straight through the now-open window into the windy, humid tropical air outside, knife still sticking out the head all the way.

While it was still falling towards the island below, the Monokuma exploded.

Kaede’s teeth and bones had just gotten used to not rattling, damnit.

_“Big mistake.”_

Another Monokuma stood in the doorway of the room, looking seriously pissed off.

Or at least he did, for the faction of a second before Mukuro tossed a second knife, pinning him to the far wall of the corridor and spearing right through something vital.

“Get down!” Kyouko shouted. Everyone hit the deck. Kaede hid underneath a blanket, for all the good it did.

Fucking none!

Having something explode just some meters away was an entire world’s worth of difference away from distant shelling or missile blasts. Kaede could smell the gunpowder, choke on the smoke, and her ears stung and rang. More than most, her hearing couldn’t handle it.

In fact, her ears were bleeding.

It was only from sheer fortitude that they kept working at all. Everyone sounded distant and echoey. Kaede’s head swam, and she cursed up a storm. Her vision blurred.

“Let’s… not do that again,” Shuichi suggested weakly, as he struggled back to his feet and brushed off a layer of dust.

“Agreed,” Monokuma said. “I feel like that was maybe a learning experience, Miss Ikusaba?” This time, he’d popped up next to Shuichi, and laid a paw on his shoulder. “Surely, if I’m right in the middle of your friends, you won’t-”

Turns out, she would.

Turns out, those stands with the fluids next to hospital beds can be a decent makeshift spear, given enough strength.

Mukuro stabbed Monokuma straight through with the metal pole, missing Shuichi’s head by just a tiny little bit. This time, she knew to pull the destroyed unit up, carrying it impaled on the end of the pole, over to the window. She dumped it over the side, to a similar fate as the first Monokuma, but this time she held onto the pole, wheeling around at the ready for the next target.

“Okay, then. I guess there’s no reasoning with some people, sheesh. You’d almost think like Mukuro and her sister some big ass-ass secrets they’d rather their friends never found out.” Monokuma’s voice didn’t have a particular source this time, it was coming from the PA system.

In the room, out the hallway, and wafting over the island from countless speakers.

“I should probably point out that everything after I appeared in Kaede’s room was being broadcast to the whole island,” Monokuma continued. “Including my announcement, of course. So now, everyone knows! And they all saw that little breakdown too, Miss Soldier! Upupupupu.”

“Crap,” Gundham said. “That means we couldn’t keep this under wraps, even if we wanted to.”

“Usami won’t sit still for this,” Mukuro shouted out towards the open air, switching from cold fury to a level of animated anger nobody had ever seen out of her. “She’s going to stop you!”

She was raging at the heavens at this point.

Unlike when Old Kaede yelled at the sky for answers that first day, though, they replied.

**“Sorry, babe, Usami won’t do diddly-dick about this. She sure isn’t going to restart the war over a little thing like this, regardless of the consequences.”**

_“You’re wrong,”_ Shuichi said. Quietly, but with conviction. “Whatever’s happened between us, Usami’s never going to just let you stir up trouble among us like this. It’s obvious that this is going to lead to terrible things, so why would she allow it?”

 **“Simple, dear boy.”** Monokuma laughed. **“Because she honestly doesn’t think it’s a big deal if a few of you die or kill on this beautiful island! She's got way bigger concerns than just that! Ahahahaha!”**

Few, aside from a fervently, hopelessly hopeful Kaede, believed him.

Shuichi had to be right, after all. No matter how shady Usami was acting, she wouldn’t fail to intervene in something this blatant. Monokuma had already shown his hand, and a reckless act like this would stir up so many hidden things. Nobody could have predicted what before it happened, but it would set off a bigger explosion on the island than any missile or bomb ever had.

They kept thinking that, and doubt only began to creep in as Monokuma’s deadline crept closer, and Usami had still done absolutely nothing about it.

In spite of countless requests by the Council, Security, and a rampaging Mukuro starting to destroy her copies too just to make a point.

As expected, a few people made quick recoveries and were released. Although most of the sick, like Kaede, remained bedridden. That should have been a hopeful sign, but it wasn’t Mikan’s care that cured them. Nobody was sure why some people got better, while others stayed sick.

People withdrew from their own makeshift society.

It wasn’t the disease that started to break down the bonds, not really. It was Monokuma’s promise, or threat, or whatever.

Not just a few, but a lot of people ended up going into their own rooms. Or going off on their own. Nobody knew what was on everyone’s minds, but they could only guess, and wait with nervous anticipation.

Eventually, by **Day 37** , the day of the deadline, it was clear to all involved that the Council had to do _something_.

They really didn’t do much aside from endless meetings, huh?

The weather was just as grey and miserable as ever, although at least the rain stopped.

“While it’s possible Usami isn’t as benign as she appears, it’s just as possible that she’s keeping some things from us for a good reason.” Kyouko and Shuichi exchanged glances. “Some memories may be better off forgotten. Or at least, them coming to light may cause complications we can only guess at. Who can say how they’ll react? We can’t plan for something we don’t know.”

Shuichi sighed. “People are more nervous about the secrets thing than they ever were about traitors.”

“It’s possible the traitors thing really was bullshit. Everybody’s got secrets, though. Way more personal.” Kaede shrugged. “If Monokuma’s gonna do it, then I guess people had better just deal with it.”

“We can at least try to console them. Make sure they don’t freak out,” Kyouko said. “In the worst case scenario, if we have another Junko, we can contain them as necessary in the prison or hospital, since both survived intact.”

Mukuro wasn’t here to comment on things, as Monokuma’s announcement had rattled her as badly as anyone else.

To most peoples’ shock, she left Shuichi in command of Security in the meantime, rather than Kyouko, although the purple-haired mystery girl accepted it without a word of discontent. Maybe she was just too busy worrying about what was coming.

For the exact same reasons that Kaede was getting really hyped up.

“I don’t like the idea of locking up more people,” Gundham said, “Not our friends, who we’ve lived with. But we have to do whatever’s necessary to prevent another violent incident. I propose we split into teams and go to the potential trouble sources, before the announcement.” Gundham said. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Let’s call the vote. I’m in favor. Kaede?”

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Everyone stared at her. “What? It’ll be interesting to see what turns up, so I’m totally down for that.”

“Then it’s settled,” Gundham sighed. “Shuichi, you’re in command. Draw up a plan of action. Take three people on each team, just in case. Like you said, we simply can’t predict how anybody’s going to handle having their secrets uncovered. Let’s get this sorted out before the announcement. So there’s no huge, Earth-shaking surprises.”

Shuichi nodded, pretty-boy face grim. “Understood. Kyouko, let’s start working out who goes where.”

“Right. I have a few ideas right away...”

_Tch. Yeah, right. Good luck with all that, guys._

_I’ll cheer you on from here, Monokuma._

_Just like all the normal, everyday people out there._

_The people who get stepped on, who got treated like they're worthless by a society that only valued 'Ultimate talents'._

_Ordinary people who are all waiting for the Ultimates to finally get what’s coming to them._


	34. 2-12. Crucifixion (Shuichi)

_Shuichi would never forget the look on that guy’s face._

_He looked like he wanted to kill Shuichi, for what the young detective had done._

_Exposing the truth, leading to the arrest. Solving a puzzle with somebody else’s life. Grinning in boyish delight as the perp was led off, and the police officers praised his work._

_The weight, the pressure of those crazed eyes. All focused on Shuichi._

_Everyone sounded off about the case during the trial. Saying how the culprit was right to do it. Or at least, he didn’t deserve to go to jail for the rest of his life. His defense took up that cause, since Shuichi proved the facts of the case so splendidly._

_In Japan, however, a good legal defense didn’t mean you were necessarily getting off the hook. That guy was probably still rotting in a cell somewhere._

_Assuming society still existed. The Ultimate Hunt changed everything, probably._

_The Ultimates really didn’t know anything, did they?_

_Shuichi real l y d i d n ‘t k n o w…_

How painful it was to be crucified.

When Shuichi came to, his eyes fluttered open slowly. He had to blink away spots in his vision, to see a bare stone floor and bare stone walls. The place was lit by candles that danced and flickered, and cast a warm yellow-orange glow over everything.

This place was familiar.

As was the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Sitting near the doorway, on the opposite side of the room, in plain view of Shuichi without having to turn his head, he saw Kyouko. She was on her knees. Her hands were bound in front of her with a length of fraying rope. Her legs were similarly wrapped.

In fact, on second glance, she was actually tied up in that seiza position forcefully, and couldn’t move. Despite the occasional struggle and squirm,

_Kyouko… tied up…?_

_Ha, that must have been some party last night. Right? Right? …. Huh._

Shuichi’s head was swimming, in a manner he’d only recognize later as the effect of some potent drug. The world was slow, like a series of snapshots. He was gazing at things through his own eyes like a distant observer. Like life was ‘lagging’.

She met his gaze, noticed he was awake, and said something. She stared at him, and he stared at her, not replying. What was she looking at so intently?

Her clear, cold purple eyes flicked over to one side. Shuichi was always a curious guy. He couldn’t help following her gaze.

To Shuichi’s left, Nagito was

nailed up on a wooden cross

by scissors.

Shuichi couldn’t find the breath to scream.

Scissors slick with so much pink blood were speared right through.

They kept Nagito suspended off the ground, hung up with arms out to either side. His green hoodie and dark pants were shredded and soaking through, and drops of his blood were steadily falling down to the stone floor. Just below Nagito, the ground was slick with more of his blood, slowly, every so slowly, draining out.

Nagito lifted his head, clearly more awake, and recognizing that Shuichi was now conscious. In fact, the Ultimate Detective’s nerves, which had been tested before with blood and gore at crime scenes, were bringing him back to his senses, slowly but surely.

In response to his wide-eyed horrified stare, Nagito belted out a breathy, wheezing, quiet laugh into the cold stone chamber.

Shuichi saw _madness_ shining out behind his eyes.

A furious intensity that lined up with his grin, but was totally out of step with the fact that he was stabbed in every limb. He looked exalted, even thrilled with himself, with this situation, with what they’d gotten themselves into.

What’s so funny, Nagito? What’s… wrong with you?

“Shuichi, are you awake?” Kyouko asked, ignoring Nagito’s psychotic, nightmarish outburst. “Can you hear me?”

“More... or less,” Shuichi replied. This was clearly a bad dream, some nightmare of the kind that had admittedly been plaguing him for quite some time. So until he awoke, he might as well play along. “What’s… going on...?”

Kyouko nodded with her head, which was most of her freedom of movement. Shuichi followed the line of motion to a small table, which had a crude shrine built to Byakuya, with photos and more candles.

In front of that bizarre display sat a loaded matte-black pistol, right next to his hat.

Oh, right.

Shuichi glanced over at Nagito again. The last thing Shuichi remembered, distantly, through the hazy fog, was that gun in Nagito’s hand. He got him and Kyouko by surprise, made them surrender, and then… and then…

“I’m sorry for getting you swept up in this, Kyouko,” Nagito said. His breezy tone suggested he was having a pleasant chat with a friend, rather than bleeding out his life drop by drop. “You were so persistent in joining our team, though. Didn’t have much of a choice, but you’re lucky. If you’ll forgive the turn of phrase. She only likes ‘adorable boys’.”

“I’m so sorry, Shuichi. I could have stopped him,” Kyouko addressed her comment to Shuichi, not the cackling, wheezing madman. “Or maybe that’s just my arrogance. I suspected he might have one of those guns, ever since the break-in. However, his eagerness to die… That was surprising. Too surprising to predict. The plan went south.”

_What’s… she sorry for?_

_Kyouko’s the one all tied up._

“Please, forgive me. I should have warned you. But I’ve always been too secretive, I’ve held things back, to give myself some advantage. For all the good that did. Just try to hold on until help gets here. Stay awake, stay with me.”

Hold on? Forgive her?

For… what?

Shuichi looked down, and finally noticed perhaps the most pressing detail about this little nightmare.

He was, himself, crucified with a set of scissors.

Stabbed deep through his flesh, drawing blood slowly. By this point, they were stopping a far greater amount from pouring out all at once. If they were removed, he wouldn’t last two minutes.

He was a dead man.

Seeing the blood of others, and far worse things, was par for the course for an Ultimate Detective. Even by now, as ‘just’ a university student, and newly-minted adult by society’s standards, Shuichi had dealt with that enough to develop an iron stomach.

When it was other peoples’ entrails scattered around.

Seeing his own blood, like this?

That was new.

Shuichi finally found the air in his lungs to scream.

It didn’t really improve the situation.

In fact, making all that noise just alerted their captor that they were all awake.

As if summoned by their fear and dread, Touko Fukawa arrived through the rough-hewn rock archway.

Just as Nagito had been transformed into a cackling demon on a cross, Touko was different. Her own purple outfit was cut up in places, tattered. Exposing ribs just beneath thin, sickly-pale skin. Her hair was down in a mass of angular points rather than tied up in those pigtails. Her glasses sat askance on her face. Her eyes were wide and dilated. They fixated on Shuichi and widened.

Hanging out of her mouth was a long, serpentine tongue, exposed by the width of her manic grin.

“Welcome back, Shuichi! Looks like you understand what’s going on. Fucking fantastic! At least this means I used juuust the right dosage. Glad that loser snagged some on her way out after being ‘discharged’!”

“Touko, what are you-” Kyouko started, but was silenced. In an instant, moving in jerking fits like a possessed puppet dancing on strings, Touko put a pair of gleaming silver scissors into Kyouko’s face, inches from her.

Kyouko didn’t flinch, but she did close her mouth.

“I told you before, _babe_. So consider this your very last goddamn warning. I am not Touko. Touko is Touko, and I’m me! Considering you’re supposed to be as bright as Shuichi over here, it’s amazing that you can’t pick up such a simple concept! Or are you doing it on purpose to spite me? I sure hope not, considering how nice and hospitable I’m being right now.”

Kyouko looked unimpressed.

“I mean, to be fair,” Nagito offered, tone offhand and friendly, “You are the only one of us who’s not been stabbed a bunch. Heh, heh.” He couldn’t help a hacking cough afterwards. “Might wanna listen to the crazy murder lady.”

“Yeah!” Touko snapped, pointing with her scissors. “Listen to the crazy murder lady! … _Hey_ , at least use my name!”

Was Nagito infected, either at the start, or recently with all the work he’d been doing around the hospital?

That had to be it, right?

Then why did Kyouko say he had the gun for weeks…?

Not that it mattered now. For once, the analysis engine of Shuichi’s brain, normally unstoppable as it looked over every single detail of a situation obsessively, ground to a temporary halt. Fear for his friends, fear for his own life, surged forward, giving the logical, calm boy a jolt of something primal and savage. His heart thundered in his chest, even though every beat just pushed more of him out there into the cold, damp, musty air.

At least from what he remembered, crucifixion could take days to kill a healthy person. The scissors probably meant it wouldn’t be days in this case, though.

“In fact, miss Detective, I think you need to say my real, proper, true name. True names have power, you know! Maybe you’ll be able to banish me from whence I came if you recite my true name! **Ehehehehehehehe.** Do it or die!”

With a razor-sharp scissor to her throat, Kyouko had no choice.

“You’re Genocider Syo. The infamous serial killer who’s never been caught or even profiled. Whose list of victims goes on and on. A list populated solely by unlucky young men.”

Never had Shuichi been less excited to be right about anything.

Apparently, the dawning, creeping realization of his situation, his terrified reaction, was what that girl wanted. The way he quivered and shook, how he stared at himself impaled and dying. And finally, his acknowledgement of her true form was what Touko wanted most all.

She laughed. It rang like gunshots through the serial killer’s shrine.

That was when it entered Shuichi’s mind.

_I’m not going to wake up, because this isn’t a dream. This is real, and we’re screwed._

Nobody knew how they were going to act until this moment came. All the theorizing and reason meant nothing in the face of a hopeless situation. Shuichi couldn’t see even a glimmer from where he was hanging. Just the cruel, cackling laughter of Genocider Syo.

A friend they’d had on the island for many weeks, living among them.

A monstrous serial killer infamous across Japan, and probably the whole world.

It was like a monster was wearing the skin of a friend.

No, Shuichi had known this was a possibility to begin with. Intellectually. He’d just always hoped beyond hope it wasn’t true. He wanted so badly for his deductions to be wrong. Even as a little voice in the back of his head warned him. He’d made plans, contingencies. Only to be blindsided in the end. None of it had mattered.

“About now, you may be thinking ‘Why is this happening? Why me?’” Touko cupped her cheeks like a blushing maiden and swayed from side to side, still possessed.

“Please…” Shuichi managed, voice hoarse and thin and weak.

“Huh?”

“Please… don’t kill us…”

Touko stared at him, mouth closed, although that long tongue still stuck out. Just like a snake would ‘sniff’ the air with it, she did that too, taking in the strong, pungent scents of this dungeon of horrors.

The iron tinge of blood filled the stagnating air.

“Don’t you think every one of Genocider Syo’s victims begged for mercy?” Nagito sighed. “What a _normal_ response, from somebody who’s supposed to be a symbol of this world’s hope.”

What did that have to do with _anything-_

“Then again, I don’t know if I can call you much of a symbol. Given how you lied to Touko, then sold her out to the Council. All while calling her your friend, and smiling to her face. In fact, that sounds a lot more like me than a supposed Ultimate Detective! How the mighty have fallen!”

Shuichi stared in disbelief. “Nagito, you…”

Asking how he knew was pointless.

Shuichi’s pleading eyes turned from Nagito. Still on his cross, still in the exact same terrifying, life-threatening situation. To the homicidal maniac before them both, who was admiring her handiwork.

“Don’t bother begging like a dog,” Genocider said. “Bagel Boy is pretty much dead on. Soon enough, he’ll just be dead, but as you’ve noticed, he’s cool with it! Why can’t any of you other cute boys be this civil about the whole thing, huh?! People these days. Oh, and don’t bother apologizing or anything. I’m not the one you betrayed. You’d have to talk to _her_.”

_Oh._

Even as Shuichi was nearly blinded by a combination of fatigue, blood loss, and sheer animal fear, he couldn’t help picking up the meaning there. At the very least, this was how Touko was behaving now. Since he was in her power, then humoring her was the obvious choice.

“C-Can I talk to her, then?”

“You’re all bloody,” Genocider grumbled at him. “So no can do! Even if I felt like giving control back to that loser, she’d just keel over again in fright. She’s weak. So incredibly weak, her mind broke apart into little tiny pieces!”

“The corridor,” Shuichi said. “W-We could still hear each other. Please… I have s-something to say to Touko.”

Genocider mulled this over.

Every second she dithered, Shuichi died just that bit more.

“Oh, fiiiine! I normally don’t take requests, since I’m a professional and I have my own way. But this clearly means a lot to that pathetic girl. Don’t bother trying to get her to get you down, though. She couldn’t, even if she was having second thoughts! Even if she was trying to hold it in all this time! What you did to her is why you’re on that damn cross in the first place!”

“You could say you made the rod for your own back,” Nagito remarked offhandedly, like a spectator. Like he wasn’t just as doomed. “Er, cross.”

Shuichi found the one thing worse than being slowly killed by a homicidal fiend.

Doing so alongside an asshole who acted like this was a fun game.

Genocider walked out of the room, and there was silence.

The detective looked over. “I don’t know why you’re in such a good mood, Nagito. It looks like…” Shuichi struggled to remain coherent as his mind fogged over and his body felt like it had lead weights attached everywhere. “You ended up in the lion’s stomach rather than on her back.”

At this, Nagito laughed.

Shuichi was aghast. “Don’t you realize you’re going to die, too?!”

“That’s definitely how it’s looking,” Nagito admitted. “However, I’ve given you the wrong impression. My plan wasn’t to sacrifice you to Touko and start the killings. _As she suggested, my plan was to deliver both of us as sacrifices!_ ”

“What’s... wrong with you?”

Where was the Nagito who smiled kindly while he helped people?

“Sorry, but I’ve been like this the whole time. I know it’s disgusting, I know I’m basically a rotting corpse in human skin. Makoto figured it out, and told Kyouko. Seems _she_ never saw fit to tell _you_. Even as we formed a team together to ‘stop incidents from happening’. Heh.”

So. His friend was a maniac, and another friend was also a maniac.

Shuichi did something that caught both of his fellow captives off-guard.

He laughed too.

It was a weak, shuddering, adrenaline-fueled laugh. But it was one straight from the heart. One that made him sound more like Nagito than he’d care to admit. The distance between them was shrinking.

A paper-thin line always divided criminal and detective.

“I’d call this whole thing a farce… But I’m... pretty sure a ‘farce’ has to have a happy ending.”

“G-Glad to h-hear you’re enjoying yourself in there,” A miserable voice floated in from around the corner. Touko was back. Or at least, the personality that Shuichi had gotten to know. The one who’d gained her confidence, only to betray that trust. “Shuichi, y-you might think I’m really angry.”

Shuichi looked at the scissor speared through his right hand at the wrist, and then looked over at the matching scissor through the other one. “Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

“T-That’s not true. O-Or, at least, I’m angry at you, but I’m also used to it. You really are just a guy, like every other guy. I thought maybe you were different. M-M-Maybe because you play for more than one team, or whatever. Or because you were n-nice to me. You didn’t let me down, you lived right down to my expectations.”

“I want to apologize. I should have been honest with you, and trusted you as a friend. You showed me this. Some part of you, deep down, had to know.” Shuichi looked down at his feet, and saw his shoes had been removed. They were neatly placed over in a corner of the room, alongside Nagito’s shoes and Kyouko’s boots.

“She mentioned ‘holding it in’. You’ve been doing that since we got here. That moment where you sent me down here must have been a call for help. I failed to even see it. I was afraid.”

“D-Do you think _‘sorry, Touko’_ is gonna get you out of this?!”

“No. But I’m going to say it, anyway. I’m sorry, Touko. I had my reasons, but none of it changes what happened. You tried to control yourself, and I only helped pressure you more. Until you wanted to die back there at the hospital. If you want to hate me, go right ahead. You’ve every right.”

“Y-You’d call Nagito insane for going along with this all, but look how easily you’re ready to give in. A-Are you trying to absolve me?! I d-don’t need your permission, or your forgiveness or whatever! You’re not special, Shuichi. You’re just the latest one. Y-You know, I’ve carved little notches into my body, but I can’t even count them anymore.”

Why did that thought twist his stomach up worse than the fact that he was stabbed in each limb?

Maybe what was physically happening still had a tinge of unreality. An impossible nightmare made manifest, something he could only view with a degree of remove. Whereas hearing Touko say that, imagining the scars and marks on her body, brought it all home in an instant.

It could also just be that Shuichi had studied that case. Touko’s handiwork. The case went unsolved, and there were a lot of mysteries even in higher echelons of the police. Before this, Shuichi hadn’t even known Genocider was female. Yet, he’d learned so many horrible details.

Knowing it was Touko made him feel closer to her, like he’d developed a greater understanding. In an absurd way.

Or maybe he was just guilty.

Maybe he belonged up here for his shoddy detective work.

“Do whatever you want to me,” Shuichi said, softly, but with conviction. “I’m serious. I won’t blame you, or anything. But Kyouko and Nagito aren’t involved in this. They haven’t done anything to you. Nothing like what I did, at least. Please, Touko. For whatever we once had, let them go.”

“I dunno. I messed with her a little,” Nagito admitted. “It was all in fun, but she took it pretty hard. Might have riled up this side of her, which was of course the whole point. Also, I totally understand trying to help Kyouko, but come on. I’m the reason we’re up here!”

Shuichi looked around. “Everybody here contributed to this situation, but we’re backed into a corner now. All of us, even you, Touko. But Kyouko doesn’t deserve this. She’s not even a guy, so killing her would, I don’t know. Ruin your style. Come on, just let her go.”

Touko didn't say anything for a while.

“C-Can you stop acting, for even just a second? Here at the end? Are you that big of a liar? Is there nothing underneath there? D-Does she need to come back, and start digging around in your chest to see if there’s actually anything there at all?”

“That would be fine,” Shuichi said. Frightening even himself, he didn’t know whether he meant that. “Just don’t hurt Kyouko.”

“What are you doing?” Kyouko said. “Shuichi, this sort of behavior…” It wasn’t the response called for by criminal psychology. Both Ultimate Detectives had, among their bag of tricks, gained experience negotiating with criminals at all levels. There were some things you said, and some things you didn’t.

What Shuichi was trying was as desperate and foolish a gamble as saying ‘go ahead, shoot me’ to a gun-wielding person.

Kyouko’s eyes widened slightly. “You… you are giving up, Shuichi. Just like that?”

What did she mean, _just like that?_

This was pretty final.

“T-They’ll notice your disappearances, of course,” Touko said. “More people will come. But not f-fast enough for you guys. Tonight, Monokuma’s gonna say it for everyone to hear. What the hell else could he possibly say about me, except th-that?! What point is there in holding Her back any longer?!”

“So you’ll get your revenge while you still can,” Nagito nodded. “I don’t think much of such a vindictive, petty motive. However, it worked. I can’t completely dismiss any plan that results in victory. Plus, you don’t need to uphold the kind of splendid values that I’d expect from the Ultimates. Your actions have put you beyond forgiveness.”

“What?” Even the homicidal maniac was taken aback.

“I mean, you’re just like me now, Touko. It’s obvious that you can’t be forgiven.”

“... H-How? How are you anything like me?! I b-beat you… I won...”

“I believe I told you this already.” Nagito laughed again, wheezing, struggling for his every breath. His voice sounded breathy and sultry, rather than the desperate half-whispers Shuichi could muster. “But as of now, you’re not a symbol of hope. Your evil actions have made you a stepping stone. An obstacle to overcome. One that, like all the hurdles before, is destined to be cleared. **There can’t be any other result, but your defeat.** ”

“You helped her plan,” Kyouko said. “You held a gun to your friends for her sake. Yet you hope she’s foiled in the end?”

“Exactly! Finally, somebody gets it!” Nagito was exalted. “It’s like, hm. If you have a favorite boxer, then you want him to win. But you want him to fight a strong opponent. A close match is so much more interesting than a curb stomp, even if the result is what you hoped for. Not to mention, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! The Ultimates will face this trial, and in spite of a few losses along the way… they’ll emerge all the stronger for it!”

That’s wrong. What doesn't kill you makes you weaker, until it does.

“You don’t just consider yourself expendable,” Kyouko interpreted in disgust. “We’re all just as expendable, for the sake of your ideology. Everyone, everywhere. No line can’t be crossed. Human life holds no value for you at all.”

“Why so judgmental?! A serial killer’s right outside that doorway, you know! Isn’t that the bigger issue?” Nagito’s smarmy tone made Shuichi wish he could get free. Well, more than before.

Struggling was a bad idea for either thin ‘pretty boy’, though. If anything, the scissors were the only thing keeping them alive anymore. Removing them without serious medical attention present that very instant would undoubtedly result in their deaths.

“At least Genocider Syo recognizes the value of a human life. Otherwise, she wouldn’t take such sadistic glee in ending it,” Kyouko said. “While you may have hurt less people, you’re…”

_In some ways, worse._

“Don’t worry about such _petty concerns_ as _life!_ Our deaths will lead to a greater cause! In stories, there’s always a few deaths among the heroes. Sacrifices need to be made. Not just because it makes a great story, but because that’s the way you grow! The Ultimates will gain the strength to resist this Hunt, and all the despair surrounding it. Our lives won’t be wasted! They’ll be used, to great effect! Who could ask for more?”

Shuichi, Kyouko, and the murderer keeping them all had nothing to say to that.

In fact, Touko was done talking. She walked back around the corner, catching sight of the horrible carnage on purpose. Her eyes bugged out as she ran over the two men nailed up to crosses by her very own scissors.

The calling cards and hallmarks of each Syo murder. The scissors were, as Shuichi recalled from classified police reports, immaculately handcrafted stainless steel. Always sharp, always resistant to stains. Always recovered in good condition from crime scenes. Four of them speared into Shuichi, dug deep into his flesh. Although pink flowed around them on its drip-drip progress from Shuichi’s body to the outside world, they were still spotless themselves.

The metal glinted in the dancing candle-light. Shuichi had once thought of such lights as playful during the Ultimate Festival, but their moody ambiance only enhanced the terror of this scene.

A candle-lit basement shrine was exactly the sort of place where a serial killer’s victims should die.

That serial killer, a monster responsible for leaving a trail of bodies across Japan and gripping the country in fear, revulsion, and sick interest, keeled over unconscious.

_If only she’d stay that way._

The whole time since she broke line of sight, of course, Kyouko had been working tirelessly to fray her bonds even more. Rubbing her hands even slightly, as much as physically possible. Rubbing them raw even beneath her gloves, wincing in pain, but working at the already damaged ropes.

“Did you manage to hit the panic button?” Shuichi asked. “Before we were taken captive.”

“No,” Kyouko admitted. “Since Nagito was there for all our planning meetings, he knew about it. In fact, he figured out my emergency backup before I could bite down on it in my mouth and hit the sensor.” She spat out a bit of electronics and circuitry. “And I never told anybody about that.”

“Just a lucky guess,” Nagito said. “Really, it wasn’t much of a plan. I just trusted in my luck. I hate my luck, but I love it, too. It’s terrible, but that makes it a perfect talent for somebody like me!”

“Shut up,” Kyouko snapped.

To Shuichi’s surprise, and weary gratitude, Nagito obeyed.

His smug, self-satisfied grin told the story as well as insane ranting. He’d already gotten what he wanted. The cloudy-white haired maniac was certain Kyouko couldn’t get even her hands free before Touko came to. Or rather, before Genocider returned.

He was right.

Genocider Syo sprang up, going from horizontal on the ground to vertically standing up faster than seemed humanly possible.

Her eyes were wide open in glee.

“Got all your sappy stuff sorted out? Fantastic. Really, I’m glad for you. Hopefully now, you can pass on without any regrets! Hehehehe.”

“What about… Kyouko…?” Shuichi demanded.

Inasmuch as meat could make demands of a meat grinder.

“What about her?” Genocider replied flatly. “Oh, right! You’ve got a point, it would mess up my style to slice her up. Hmm. I’ve had to take out a few ladies before just because they walked in on something mega-incriminating, or other bad-luck cases. It always ‘tasted’ so bad to do it. Hmm.”

“If Monokuma’s going to announce it regardless,” Shuichi reasoned desperately, “T-Then it doesn’t even matter if she tells everybody what happened, right? You can just hold her captive or something, alive. In fact, she’s a bargaining chip. A hostage.”

It wouldn’t be ideal, but Kyouko was the only one in this room with a prayer of making it out alive. She might even figure out some way to signal for help, escape her binds and fight.

All she needed was time.

Time was on Kyouko’s side. The opposite was true for Nagito and Shuichi. By now, both of them were feeling the effects of blood loss even more profoundly. Shuichi could only assume they’d been down in the basement for a while before he came to from the drug.

Their ability to speak and think diminished. Two human beings slowly drained away.

Drop by drop, pattering so slowly against uncaring cold stone below. A slow-motion rain of blood.

“Hmmmm. Hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmmmm.” Genocider scrunched up her face cartoonishly, Showing exaggerated delight and exaggerated expressions of emotion at all times. “Hey, little miss detective girl! Maybe I’ll spare your life, if you beg for it!”

To Shuichi, with nothingness scratching at the back of his well-trained mind, that sounded like a solid deal.

Kyouko remained silent.

“Aww, come on. You’re so cool and stuff, so I figured it would be fun to change things up! I’m not into girls that way, but if you’re pitiful enough, well. I’d take pity on you! Come on, serial killer’s honor.”

Kyouko said nothing.

She didn’t even meet Genocider’s gaze.

Shuichi’s heart sank.

Just do whatever. Beg, plead. Survive. You’re the one person here who has a chance, just appeal to whatever psycho instinct is driving this girl.

Genocider frowned. “Come oooon. We’re friends, aren’t we? Or aren’t we at least one step away from friends?~”

Kyouko looked up at her, _and spat in her face_.

 _ **That**_ was also, certainly, not in the handbook.

Genocider wiped away the spit with a hand still holding a scissor. Her frown turned to a scowl. Without a word, she stormed over to the table, and picked up the gun with her other hand. She verified it was loaded, clicked off the safety, and marched back over to Kyouko.

She put the gun in Kyouko’s face.

“If I’m gonna _fuck_ up my metaphorically perfect pasta sauce anyhow, then let’s get _dangerous_. Any last words, Sherlock Whore?”

Kyouko considered this for a moment, looking over at the guys on their crosses.

Then, she moved.

It happened too fast for a sluggish, drugged Ultimate Detective to track.

He could only infer what happened in the aftermath. Kyouko reached up, breaking the last of the frayed ropes in the process, and grabbed the gun right out of Genocider Syo’s hand. If she’d been gripping it with both hands, or standing slightly farther away, or been expecting it, things would have turned out very differently for Kyouko.

None of those conditions were true, though.

In the blink of an eye, Kyouko had it pointed at back at her assailant. The Ultimate Detective held it with a firm, experienced two-handed grip, gloved finger hovering a centimeter off the trigger.

Even the pressure from being rushed and stabbed would set it off.

“How about ‘ _Never bring the gun this close to your enemy’_? It's clear you're less experienced with anything but your trusty scissors.”

Shuichi’s eyes widened, and an invigorating rush of excitement overcame his fatigue for just a moment.

_No way._

In an instant, the tables turned.

Even though Kyouko’s legs were still bound together, she had a gun on Genocider. She froze up. More in surprise that somebody was quicker than her, perhaps. Although the fact that she didn't want to be shot helped. She still had a scissor in one hand, and was standing so close. Yet the time it would take to bring it down somewhere vital was time she just wouldn’t have.

The best result she could have managed was having both of them die together.

An embrace of mutually-assured destruction.

“That’s...that’s cheating!” Genocider exploded, gesturing wildly and flailing about, Not daring to close the final half-step of distance. “God damnit! Kiyo said these ropes were the finest on the island! Uh, forget you heard that.”

Not likely.

Well, Shuichi _was_ likely to pass out soon, but at least Kyouko heard that.

“Kiyo?” Kyouko’s eyes narrowed. “What’s Kiyo got to do with this?”

“Who knows?” Genocider shrugged in an exaggerated motion. “Why should I tell a dead woman, anyhow?”

Nagito yelled with the last of his strength, “Kyouko, behind you!”

_Son of a bitch._

Kyouko didn’t even flinch, though.

“Aw. Welp, that’s about it… for me… heh…”

The man was absolutely hellbent on dying here, and helping Genocider Syo make it happen. Even as the hourglass of his life ran out of sand. It was disgusting. Shuichi wasn’t like Nagito, not like that. He couldn’t be like him, like that thing. At least, that instant of excitement, that defiance of what seemed like immutable fate, got a spark of life back into Shuichi.

A spark of **hope**.

Not that he could do anything about it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Kyouko said. “Back away and drop the scissors. On your knees, now.”

“I’d love to kill you,” Genocider cackled. “Even the big tough guys don’t fight back like you do. I can’t afford to take you lightly! Ehehehehe.”

‘Knees,” Kyouko commanded. “Now.”

“Kinky! But _no_ , I don’t think I’m gonna do that. If you were gonna shoot me, you’d have done it,” Genocider spat back. Literally. “At least this close, I can make sure _you won’t win_ , either.”

For how much of an insane, absurd, dangerous threat Genocider Syo was, she was also shockingly childish. In that way, at least, she was a good fit to partner up with this clownish nightmare that had replaced the Nagito he knew.

“You’re not the Ultimate Soldier! You’re the Ultimate Detective. You might be handy with that gun, but you’re a copper though and through! That gun has to be a last resort, toots!”

“I don’t have any other way to stop you,” Kyouko retorted flatly. “This is certainly our last hope.”

Luckily, Nagito had faded out by that point. His eyes closed, and his head slumped over to the side limply. He was still breathing, but, well. He wasn’t able to add his own two-yen contributions to the discussion.

Shuichi tried to speak. He didn’t get anywhere.

Aside from rattling off, _“Usami… Monokuma… help...”_

To no effect.

Neither of them appeared, even on this situation. They were nowhere to be found.

Neither woman broke the standoff.

Time stretched on.

Shuichi had no way of knowing how long they sat there. It probably wasn’t long in the grand scheme, since Shuichi didn't have long.

Within arm’s reach, weapons pointed at each other, the two lethal women were coiled like well-oiled springs. Both of them were, in their own ways, incredibly dangerous, but both had a disadvantage as well. They had no way to know who would win, if they just fought like this. It would be over in an instant.

So they sat there.

Shuichi and Nagito hung up on their wooden crosses all the while. Impaled, bleeding, struggling for life. Clinging to it by natural instinct. Nagito didn’t want to live, yet he was human. Shuichi had tossed away his life in regret and fear, only to want it back. For both of them, time was running short. They needed help soon, or it would be too late.

Shuichi didn’t actually have any reason to think it wasn’t already too late.

His arms and legs were messed up and wouldn’t respond to even ill-considered attempts to move. They just wouldn’t. Whether he lacked the strength to move them, or there was something deeper wrong, it was impossible to tell. Arteries had to be damaged by this. He knew about medicine mostly regarding poison and autopsies, but dead was dead.

What separated a man from a child?

_Uncle always said it's when a man realized that everybody was going to die._

_Even, especially, himself._

Shuichi was out of options. He’d always thought of Angie’s ramblings as a mix of infuriating insanity and stupid superstition. In that moment, though, he thought to himself, ‘what the hell’.

He tossed away the last tattered bit of his pride, and went to his own last resort.

_Atua, can you hear me?_

_You’re supposed to know everything. So you should know what’s going on here._

**_I don’t want to die._ **

_I don’t want my friends to die._

_Even those two manics don’t deserve to die._

_Regardless of what they’ve done, nobody actually deserves to die._

_Do something. Send Angie a sign. Make somebody come over to Touko’s lab. Make Genocider Syo have a seizure. I don’t know! Anything._

**_Please._ **

_End this nightmare._

_I’ll go back to the Black Hats. I’ll go back to her and do anything. I’ll grovel in the mud. I’ll repent a thousand times. I’ll, fuck, I don’t know. I’ll do anything!_

**_Just help us._ **

This was reality, though.

No matter how much one prayed for salvation, it wouldn’t matter-

From above, rolling down the hallway with the hidden door leading up to the lab, there was a noise.

A faint _smashing_ noise.

Like somebody was breaking into whatever barricades had been set up topside, just for instance.

Everything down in the dungeon froze.

Shuichi shivered. It was getting colder. “T-That…”

There it was again, louder.

_Crash._

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Genocider grumbled. “Come on. Just a little more. Just a little more time, and… I don’t know, I’d at least have gotten to kill you all! In fact, I still could...”

“It’s over.” Kyouko shook her head. “And you know it. Give up, Genocider, and you won’t be harmed. I swear.”

“How can you possibly even pretend to promise that? When the others find out. What the others learn who I am, what I am…”

Shuichi had seen Genocider Syo full of cruel mirth, and filled with bile and open hatred.

This was new.

She was afraid.

“If you surrender to me, then I swear on my life. I won’t let them execute you,” Kyouko insisted. “You were right about just one thing. You are my friend. Or at least, you’re using my friend’s body. I don’t want to go back to Makoto and Sayaka with a friend’s blood on my hands.”

Kyouko lowered her gun.

Shuichi’s heart stopped.

Genocider sprang forward, and pinned Kyouko to the wall, scissor to her throat. “That was stupid. This is _my_ last chance, too. My last chance to kill, ever! You may not have the right gender identity, but fuck it. You’ll do!”

“I don’t know how human you are anymore,” Kyouko said. “But the thing that unites us is that we want to live. If that’s true of you, then the only way for you to live is to trust me. Whoever bursts through the doorway isn’t going to ask questions. Not after what you’ve done. Please. Genocider, Touko, whoever you really are.”

Genocider hovered between life and death.

Unable to deny that it had to be one, or the other, for both of them.

Her method of accepting Kyouko’s offer was just as unique as everything about her, though.

With a kiss.

Kyouko didn’t look particularly happy with that, but she also didn’t have the strength to resist. Physically, at least. Genocider pulled back a long, bitten tongue, and spat out some of her own blood.

Instead of enraging her, that sent the murderer into another bout of insane laughter. A cartoonish cackling made all the more frightening for how over the top and silly it was, like everything about her personality. Once that was out of her system, Genocider backed off, and pulled out her skirt.

Enough to let at least fifty pairs of handcrafted scissors fall down, clattering in a rain of stainless steel to the grey stone below.

When Tenko Chabashira, the Ultimate Aikido Master, and Atua’s Champion, defender of even weak males, arrived with a full head of steam, she found the scene as follows.

Nagito had completely passed out, bleeding out on his cross, barely breathing.

Shuichi’s eyes were half-open, and he saw the world as hazy shadows, as his own breathing slowed.

Kyouko was tying up the infamous serial killer Genocider Syo with a length of rope, as tightly as possible.

Genocider was dying, too. Of laughter.

Tenko was frozen in horror at the sight of it all. In the most human reaction of the evening, she just was not able to process any of this. Not one aspect of the scene could even be comprehended by a mind that was somewhat normal.

Her girlfriend, by contrast, snapped into action in an instant.

She bowled past, an unstoppable typhoon of fluff, faith, and thickness, in the face of such threats to human life.

Mikan had a stretcher in tow, and others came once the scene was secured. Shadowy figures, and then just familiar voices, as Shuichi’s eyes settled closed and refused to open again.

He didn’t even feel the process of getting him off the cross and onto a stretcher. No pain, no blood loss, no anything. For all he knew, he was still on it, but all that didn’t matter anymore.

They’d made it, so he could  f i n a l l y   r e l a x.

Mikan, and then Tenko when she’d stopped vomiting, both screamed at him to stay awake.

That was one thing Shuichi just couldn’t oblige them on.

Darkness that had been at the edge of his vision and mind surged forward.

He was so _tired_.

Shuichi Saihara slipped away into unconsciousness even as he and the other culprit/victim were being loaded onto an ambulance out front of the ruined library-lab. The whining siren and flashing blue-red lights were so very distant.

Finally, Shuichi _got some goddamn sleep_.


	35. 2-13. Friendship (Sayaka)

They really should have seen it coming. It was obvious.

Maybe that’s why this took the Ultimates by storm.

_It’s like Manager used to say; familiarity breeds contempt._

The Ultimate Anthropologist’s Lab made it through the Siege with little more than blast scoring and some cracked windows. Considering most other Ultimate Labs had enormous holes blown in them, collapsed roofing, or had just burned to ashes, it was a miracle.

The precious artifacts inside endured. As had the wood-paneled room in back where Kiyo entertained guests with extra-strong tea and simple, but well-made, traditional Japanese fare. Combined with the candle-lit lantern boxes, the room felt like a time capsule back to an earlier age.

For somebody so steeped in the modern world, and who lived life at breakneck speed, there was a serious appeal to the occasional old-fashioned break. To sitting down, kneeling at a table, taking a deep breath, and being at some level of peace. Sayaka was a frequent guest, and had grown used to Kiyo’s weird sense of what was edible and what wasn’t. As well as to how he never removed that mask in front of others anymore, even though he used to do it freely.

Normally, she loved hanging out here and talking with such an odd, but intelligent and sensitive, man. This evening, though, she had little appetite.

Maybe it was the gun in Kiyo’s bandaged right hand.

Yeah, probably that.

What started out as a lovely dinner invitation, and a meeting of people Kiyo could trust to talk about ‘some important secret’, went south.

In hindsight, it may have seemed obvious. With just some hours left to go until the time limit, the creepy stalker guy wanted to speak to two pretty girls, alone in a secluded place, and wanted to ‘show them something extremely important’.

Kiyo had always been creepy, though!

Never once had he crossed the line into ‘dangerous’.

Until now.

Sayaka glanced over towards the other girl, seated beside the Ultimate Idol. Both of Kiyo’s ‘guests’ had been instructed where to sit, and he sat on the opposite end. Well out of arm’s reach.

Not that Chihiro Fujisaki, or Sayaka Maizono, could be called the ‘heroic type’.

Even at a stretch.

_When a man with a gun wants something, he gets it._

“What’s wrong, ladies?” Kiyo asked in mocking concern, pressing his free hand to his mask. “Please, enjoy. While I could never hope to match the talents of the Ultimate Chef, I’ve had plenty of practice and some rather… _stimulating_ feedback from visitors less polite than yourselves. I believe I’ve perfected the art of ‘tolerable cooking’.”

Neither girl did anything. Except sit there, staring at him in horror, of course.

There was a lot of that.

“Come, come. I’ve taken notes on the dishes you prefer. Teruteru was very helpful. When not crying over his Lab, the poor thing. Regardless, this should be just to your liking. The food, not his Lab. I don’t think anybody enjoys the loss of those spectacular five-star meals.”

Sayaka wasn’t feeling much for conversation. Her eyes were glued to that gun. Her heart raced. While she said to others she couldn’t handle stress, that wasn’t true. She’d gone through pressures that had crushed so many other aspiring little girls, and come out the other end a blood diamond.

Bright with a mirror sheen on the outside, and a rotten core on the inside.

A product that had taken countless sacrifices to make. Often her own, sometimes others.

She was great at pushing problems ‘inside’, burying them deep, and putting on a smiling face. She was even smiling now, at the man who had kidnapped her and Chihiro. Of course, the smile didn’t reach her intense, wide blue eyes, but it was such an ingrained habit.

Chihiro, on the other hand, was quietly sobbing. Sayaka gripped one of her hands, squeezing tightly. While Chihiro had started out ‘next’ to Sayaka, now the brunette was leaning against the taller woman and ‘fellow believer’, quivering like a leaf.

“Please… please don’t hurt us, Kiyo…”

Kiyo sighed. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, dear Chihiro. I forgot that you are such a sensitive soul.” He set the gun down on the table. Well within reach for him, and away from them. But the safety was on and it was no longer pointed at them. “Better?”

Chihiro nodded, sniffing. “T-Thank you.”

It didn’t change the crazy situation they were in.

He’d locked the sliding door behind him after escorting them inside. The two women were trapped with this freak, until… well.

Sayaka had no clue what he wanted, but anything a man had to use a gun to ask for was probably not something she wanted to do. Unlike most of the girls on the island, Sayaka had dealt with pushy guys before. Even, on rare and exceptional occasions, pushy armed guys.

Just another part of life in the business, of course.

Bitter bone-deep memories shuffled up to the surface unbidden.

Sayaka indulged a habit she’d eradicated years back.

She chewed her lip raw, and tasted the lipstick.

“Come, come. I insist. A hearty meal will surely-”

“Kiyo, why are you doing this?’ Sayaka asked, firm in glare and voice. Projecting confidence she didn’t have on the inside. “What’s going on? This isn’t funny.”

“I don’t know. Viewed from a certain remove, I’m sure this could be considered comical.” Kiyo chuckled to himself. “Kukuku. Regardless, I intend to answer all your lingering questions. We are here for a vital purpose, after all. One that must not leave these walls. But! Only after we’ve finished at the table. I am one of those few souls nowadays who don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”

The word ‘pleasure’ was, well.

Among the things Sayaka **really** didn’t want to hear from Kiyo in this context.

_He means the dinner, he means the dinner. He doesn’t mean other things._

_This won’t be like_ that time _._

 _It won’t be like_ that time _, even if I have to..._

She was freaking out just as badly as Chihiro, of course. But managing to keep a lid on it so far. Aside from turning a slightly more pale shade of pale. Sayaka hoped Kiyo wouldn’t notice, but he was an observer of humanity. That was what he did day in and day out, so Sayaka had to assume he knew everything.

He’d been observing, taking notes, studying.

Just like an obsessed fan.

Kiyo had always been a creeper, but he was also helpful, friendly, whip-smart. He kept out of everyone’s way, and never had a cross word except for idiots. Aside from occasionally threatening Kokichi, but what guy hadn’t done that a few dozen times? All of Kiyo’s behaviors had become normalized. Banal. Certainly, even the girls who were worried about this weirdo had grown comfortable with his presence.

Maybe they didn’t want to be _alone_ with him, but they’d never suspect this would happen.

“Chihiro, don’t,” Sayaka said, seeing the quivering girl move to obey their captor’s demand. “We don’t know what’s in it.”

Chihiro’s eyes went wide. “Sayaka, y-you don’t think…?”

“If he has that gun, that means he was involved somehow in that incident weeks back. That can only mean a few things, and none of them are good news. This is no prank.”

“A-Atua, save us…”

Kiyo looked hurt. “Not to worry. The food is innocent. I will sample every dish before either of you, and your drinks. If that’s what you need to relax.”

Him caving like that just confirmed it.

Sayaka’s eyes narrowed, and her frosty smile finally dropped off, leaving her mouth a thin, small line. “Forceful guys make me lose my appetite. Sorry.”

“Oh, dear. I’m already making a mess of things.” Kiyo shook his head. “Apologies about the forcefulness. Truly, it’s not my usual style. However, circumstances have left me with precious little time. We have just enough for a decent meal, and then we can discuss the reason I brought you here. My… secret. The secret that the lovely and hateful Monokuma will be announcing tonight.”

Tempura had been lovingly prepared for the meek Chihiro, who summoned up the courage to poke at it first.

“Chihiro-” Sayaka warned her again, reaching for her wrist.

“I know we should be careful. Atua is telling me that Kiyo isn’t lying, though. About what he said, that he’s gonna tell us, or about the food being okay. We should eat, and then listen to what he has to say.”

“What a _gracious_ god,” Kiyo chuckled darkly.

_Probably a bad time to bring up that I’ve never cared what goddamn ‘Atua’ says about anything._

_Forget whether he’s real, I’m not even there yet._

Sayaka let out a sigh, and indulged in the sushi plates and bowls laid out before her. She’d always had a weakness for the stuff, even though she had a rigorous diet plan. Or at least, she had, before the world ended last month.

Or… whenever it had been.

_The world’s always been upside down. But when I think about it, given all the missing memories everyone is panicking about, it must have been a lot longer than a month._

_A year? More?_

It couldn’t have been much longer than that. Makoto, Sayaka, and Kyouko had passed some of their free time between crises investigating the specifics of the memory loss. Or at least, taking statements across Gopher Island. People were about as grown and mature as they remembered from before going to college, without major physical discrepancies.

Even the most childlike of the Ultimates, Himiko, Hiyoko, and Chihiro, were a little mature, given they were probably in their early twenties by this point. Yet, they were still largely as they themselves remembered.

That still left what was, relative to how long they’d been alive, a huge gulf of time.

What had Kiyo so worked up, so scared, that he’d forced the two of them to attend his little party? What sort of thing could he only tell to them? Was this incident really all down to Kiyo being afraid? To him ‘running out of time’ for something, as he’d alluded to? What secret had the calm, friendly observer taking such an active role as to hold people hostage?

The three of them ate in terse silence.

Kiyo wouldn’t answer questions he deemed ‘business’ while indulging in the simple pleasure of a good meal with company. Even if that company, in turn, had no interest in the ‘pleasure’ of conversation and chit-chat.

Finally, they finished.

Chihiro bowed her head. She gave thanks for the meal. Both to Kiyo, in a show of more politeness than even the lifetime liar Sayaka could muster. And of course, to fucking Atua.

Sayaka did the same motions, and closed her eyes for the same time.

Another force of habit.

If Sayaka had something to be proud of, it wasn’t how she could trick decent, honest people into thinking she was one of them.

“Religious belief has always been an area of particular fascination for me,” Kiyo admitted conversationally, as he watched his ‘guests’ pray together. “Of course, no anthropologist worth his salt could ignore the influence of beliefs on every aspect of the human condition. Even in this jaded modern age. However, I must admit, Angie’s beliefs are one of the things that have… stymied my attempts to understand.”

“Like Sonia’s country?” Sayaka managed.

“Precisely. It nearly drove me mad, trying to reconcile the things that the Ultimate Princess said with my knowledge of actual human societies. Similarly, Angie’s fringe beliefs, well. I guess I’ve no right to say things like ‘nearly drove me mad’ anymore, regardless.”

Kiyo picked the gun back up, and flicked the safety off. He kept his finger resting over the trigger-guard rather than sitting on the trigger itself. Yet, it was ready.

“Now will you tell us what’s going on?” Sayaka demanded. “Kiyo, whatever kind of secret Monokuma’s going to say, this was all unnecessary. You know we’re not going to judge you.”

That wasn’t true. If he turned out to be a total monster somehow, Sayaka wouldn’t just forgive him through the power of friendship. Neither would the others, for the most part.

Only people like Makoto could forgive a monster.

Or a rotten girl who just looked beautiful on the outside.

Even so, the good meal mellowed Sayaka, ever so slightly.

That sushi _was_ the bomb.

She was starting to wonder if this secret would be some joke. Or atleast, turn out to be something wacky. It was Kiyo, after all. While he was a creep, and this crossed the line, he was ultimately harmless, right?

“Mere hours before the deadline.” Kiyo flipped open an old-style pocket watch he always kept on a fob on his Imperial-era uniform. “Then, I won’t delay further, or waste any more of your time than I must. I’ll now reveal to you two what my secret will be, in confidence of course?”

Whatever the girls’ misgivings, a gun was a great persuasive tool. The fear of death, and the drive to survive, was the closest thing humans had to a universal constant. A motivating force that worked on nearly everyone, nearly all the time.

“S-Sure,” Chihiro said, nodding. Sayaka nodded as well.

“I have toured this world, seeking bright girls to one day become Friends with my dear sister. You could even call it my life’s work to do this. To make one hundred friends for her, since she can’t travel herself and do it.”

Sayaka nodded. Nobody could have missed that _heartwarming_ story.

He only told it at every opportunity.

“The part of this story that is not known, but which will be announced tonight, is what it means to become Friends with my sister.”

“What d-does it mean?” Chihiro asked, though both women felt a chill, and didn’t actually want to know the answer.

Although they didn’t expect him to pull down his facemask.

They didn’t expect it to reveal that his mouth was covered in lipstick.

Nor for him to say, perfectly calm and cool, the following insanity.

“Sister is dead. Yet, Sister lives within me. Her spirit pushes me forward, just as her support kept me going in life. This is why I have worked so hard to win worthy Friends for her.”

“Um.” Chihiro stared. “You’re wearing lipstick? I don’t… get it.”

Kiyo continued, his voice even, level, and calm, “I’ve sent those friends to her. Understand?”

“No?” Chihiro said, backing away slowly in concern.

Kiyo hugged himself, and launched into a surreal, menacing tirade, delivered with total friendly sincerity. Sayaka felt like she was having an aneurysm.

“So many smart, friendly, kind, women. Displaying the noble qualities of humanity, without its manifold faults. Suitable candidates the world over have gone to meet my Sister. Naturally, there’s only one way to accomplish that now. It may be unorthodox, but common wisdom has never held me back before.

I’ve been evaluating every woman on this island. There are other fine candidates. I was spoiled for choice on this island. That is why I hesitated for so long. That, and ensuring that nobody would suspect.

Do not take this as a sign that I am ‘settling’, though. Far from it. I considered this decision more than any others. I carefully weighed everything.

 **Chihiro Fujisaki, the Ultimate Programmer.** A genius-level intellect who is responsible for bringing digital life into this world. The miracle of creation was once reserved only for God, but you have become a Goddess in this new world. Cute, feminine, and frail, but you can be stirred to make a stand for what you believe in. Instead of attributing that to your faith, I can say that the strength was always inside of you. Perhaps that is too bold, but I will say it.

 **Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol.** Idols are not just there to look pretty. Although your beauty has swept away the hearts of many millions across the world. You are more than that pretty face, though. Strong and fit, cunning and clever, intelligent. Excellent grades, athletics, social standing, grace, dignity. Most importantly, you did the hardest thing imaginable. You faced yourself, and won. You fell not to self-hatred nor boundless pride, and changed for the better.

You are both exemplars of everything I’ve looked for.

**That’s why I’m going to kill you.**

I’m going to kill you now, so that you can be friends with my dearest Sister in Heaven.

The total stands now at ninety-eight, you see. The end is in sight. With your sacrifices, I will have finally given Sister exactly one hundred friends. As I set out to do so long ago.

They may hear the gunshots, or come looking for you here. In fact, given the announcement, I am bound to be found out regardless. The may revenge themselves upon me in blood, or hold a trial, or lock me away forever in that invulnerable fortress. However, that’s all quite acceptable. Any result will be fine by that point.

You both will be long dead before help arrives.

And through your sacrifice, Sister will finally rest in peace.”

Neither girl could say anything. They’d been struck silent throughout, not moving,. Looking away, or interrupting him, was impossible. Kiyo finished a villainous rant that sounded more like practiced remarks in a lecture hall. A speech that praised them so brazenly, before saying that’s why they needed to die?

Silence hung over the table, stretching out uncomfortably. Somehow, this pause was more awkward than the simple fact that Kiyo was holding them at gunpoint.

What, exactly, was there to say to that?

Sayaka managed it. “Kiyo, tensions are high tonight. I pulled a joke like this once, and I’ll say to you what Makoto said to me. Seriously. That’s not funny.”

“I certainly hope it isn’t,” The black-haired creeper agreed. “My intent is not to mock or belittle. If anything, it’s the highest form of praise. I am very selective. Only the best candidates even have a chance at becoming Friends with my sister. I understand that you may have some objections, however, I wish to put them at ease-”

“O-Objections?” Chihiro quavered. “Um, yeah? Kiyo, w-whatever you’ve done, we can talk this over, you don’t have to do this! N-Nobody is beyond saving!”

“Unfortunately, darling Chihiro, that’s where you’re wrong. There is no turning back. If nothing else, then please consider the first ninety-eight. If I stopped short of the goal, with the finish line just within my grasp, what would they say from Heaven? Do you think they would forgive me? Most critically, what would Sister think of my half-hearted approach and eleventh-hour moral awakening?”

He pointed the gun back and forth between them.

“Sad to say, and I do understand why you’re upset. But once you’ve killed the first ninety-eight, what are two more? What would society, even our barely-functional rump of a civilization, think about me? How, exactly, do you think they will treat an unconvicted killer full of conviction they could not possibly comprehend?”

_That’s why the time limit has him scared._

_Not because of what’s going to happen to him._

_He’s just running out of time to hit his fucked-up goal._

_Holy shit, he’s serious._

Sayaka was no stranger to fear. In fact, as she’d alluded to and then laughed off later in conversation, she was no stranger to the odd kidnapping. In fact, having somebody who stalked her, admired her, and acted out that misguided admiration was, well.

She was the Ultimate Idol.

It happened.

This was a new level, though.

The fact that he sat them down to have a meeting and talk, like how the Ultimates did everything on this island, only the subject was their own murders and the rationale behind it?

Sayaka and Chihiro were coming face to face with madness itself.

Insanity.

A person who differed so completely from a normal human being, or even an Ultimate, that there was no common ground left to stand on. Words didn’t mean the same thing to them, even though they were all speaking Japanese here. No room for understanding.

No, that wasn’t true. Sayaka was starting to get the picture. A slow, creeping, disgusting feeling deep in Sayaka’s gut.

The more Kiyo explained himself, the more absurd and unreal the situation seemed, the more Sayaka had no choice but to take it deadly serious. In fact, it was his calm demeanor, his conciliatory tone, that clashed most with what he was saying and doing. None of it fit together. The logic he used to arrive at his conclusions had no logic in it.

Surprisingly, in the face of this, Chihiro didn’t just break down crying again.

Instead, anger built within her. It was a rare sight to see her glare at anyone. She was still too cute, but her resolve was clear. She didn’t sit there, gawking at how this could ever happen. Much as that was a very legitimate reaction. She got to work on him. “Where’d you even get that gun?! The military base was locked down, and now it’s gone!”

“That’s the spirit. It’s far more fun for both of us if you play along at least a little.” Kiyo chuckled to himself. “And that’s a valid question. Shuichi and Security were exacting in their search of these islands for the missing weapons. I should know. Like all Council business, I took regular notes of their progress.”

“Being let into the inner circle let you dance around them,” Chihiro surmised.

“That was my original plan, yes. However, the solution was even simpler than that. Shuichi’s brilliant detective work has an obvious flaw. There’s a reason he never had any chance to find these guns, until one of them was so graciously gifted to me by a certain friend.”

_One of the traitors. Does that mean Kiyo’s the other?_

_Could it possibly be… that guy? Nagito?_

Cracking the mystery this late was cold comfort.

“Shuichi can only search those places he knows about.”

Sayaka found her own voice, finally. She couldn’t let herself fall behind. In fact, if she thought of this as a competition or something, with the stakes as high as they could possibly go, then she could function.

In fact, as Kiyo was about to find out, Sayaka Maizono could do quite well in a high-stakes game.

“Your Lab has a hidden chamber, like Touko’s?”

Kiyo shook his head. “Not mine, but a certain somebody’s. There’s a part that can only be accessed by the Lab’s owner. Only by their consent can the space be opened for any reason. The perfect hiding place, a weapons’ cache waiting for just the right chance to, in the words of my benefactor, ‘sow a little chaos for the sake of Hope’.”

Yep, it was that bastard.

“People were plotting this right under our nose the whole time,” Chihiro said. “Angie was right. She told us, s-she said that the others, the nonbelievers, couldn’t be trusted. Some were plotting to destroy us. I never thought she’d be proven right like this, Kiyo. I never thought you’d turn out to be like this.”

Kiyo chuckled softly. “In a way, you are fortunate. You see, I’m not like that girl. I have no modus operandi aside from targeting admirable women. Any method is acceptable, and having a ‘signature style’ would just be writing a signed, sealed confession with each kill. In other words, I will do whatever works, no matter how unconventional. Or in this case, utterly conventional. So, in the end, you are lucky I was gifted this marvelous little tool.”

“How’s that?” Sayaka asked bitterly.

“Why, I thought it went without saying. Provided you do not struggle, and my aim is true, this weapon can destroy your existence in one instant. Faster than you can even process the pain of being killed, you will be in Heaven. You will, in essence, only know what hit you because I’m telling you beforehand to ease your passing. A single shot from this pistol, in just the right place, will end your life with minimal pain and suffering. Please consider all the other grisly methods I could have used, and how long you may have suffered-”

_“Coward.”_

Kiyo glanced over towards Chihoro. “Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“How dare you. How dare you act like our friend. It’s bad enough that you pretend to be our friend for all this time. Even now, though. You’re treating this like a game. You’re making light of us, even as you pretend to sing our praises.” Chihiro looked like she was on the brink of springing up from her seat. Sayaka put a hand on her narrow shoulder.

“That was certainly not my intention. I am treating the end of your lives with the most respect I possibly can-”

“That’s the problem!” Chihiro yelled, as much as she was capable of. Her face, beautiful and delicate, had been transformed into a hateful mask, in contrast with Kiyo’s serenity. “You’re a respectful murderer? Obscene. Stop pretending this has anything to do with us. Or even with your Sister. This is just about your sick need to-”

“I will thank you,” Kiyo pulled back the slide on the gun, “To leave Sister out of this.”

“F-Fuck you, and f-fuck your Sister!” Chihiro yelled, and Kiyo froze in shock.

Like he’d never considered before that one of his victims might have an unkind thing to say about him, or his damn Sister.

Like he actually thought his method, calm and methodical and ‘kind’, was worth praise.

Like Chihiro was being the rude one for speaking up instead of meekly accepting her own death.

“Killing somebody isn’t an act of ‘respect’ or ‘love’. It doesn’t matter how you do it. Even if you think what you’re doing is for the best, killing is killing. Don’t you dare try to dress it up in fancy language and try to throw up justifications.”

“Chihiro,” Sayaka said. “Calm down-”

“No! This is _too calm_ , too peaceful. _Too friendly!_ That’s the problem!” Chihiro tossed her empty cup. Not at Kiyo, but against the wall, where the glass shattered.

“Chihiro, I’ll warn you but one more time,” Kiyo cautioned, his tone growing thin and curt. “Control your temper, and see reason. Let’s do this in a civilized manner-”

“Or else what?!” Chihiro threw up her hands. “You’ve made it clear you’re going to kill us. Why the hell exactly would I play along with that? Make it easy for you? Make it easy for you to sleep at night, or whatever? You’re going to kill us! There’s no way to be ‘nice’ about that!”

“Perhaps… _not_ …” Kiyo was affected by this outburst. In particular, Chihiro going after his ‘beloved Sister’ was not a bright idea. Unless the idea _was_ to provoke the insane serial killer holding them hostage. In which case, good effect on target. “However, there are ways to be _cruel_ while killing somebody. I _strongly_ suggest you keep that in mind, and _hold your tongue,_ bitch.”

Was that, in fact, the idea?

What point would it possibly serve to make this psycho angry?

“Is that a threat? Are you stupid?!” Chihiro’s face was turning red. “What exactly could you possibly threaten me with at this point, you siscon freak?! I don’t want to see your Sister, I don’t want to be her Friend or whatever!”

As Kiyo himself said, Chihiro was a genius. The way she thought could be hard to understand sometimes, until she dumbed down what she was saying to fit the people around her.

There had to be a reason behind it.

Yet Sayaka couldn’t see it. Any more than she could help the fear squeezing around her heart like a snake. “Chihiro, stop-”

“For **instance** ,” Kiyo emphasized every other word, like his voice was going out of control. Or like he was on the edge of an explosion. “Just for an _example_. I could take that _knife_ on the counter over there, and start **cutting**. Provided I _picked_ the right _spots_ and took my time, your **death** would be just as _gruesome_ , just as horrible… _but you would suffer **so much more**_.”

Chihiro said, spitefully, “You’d like that better, huh? Is that what you’ve done before? Carve up the girl into little bits? That sounds a lot more fun for you, you sick bastard.”

“The knife gives it a far more personal touch,” Kiyo admitted. “Yet, for your sake, I abstained from that. I sought a better way. I see now that my consideration was clearly wasted on such an ingrate.”

He stood up from the table, and grabbed the kitchen knife.

“This also solves a thorny issue I was going to bring up. If I hadn’t been so rudely interrupted. Who should die first? I do believe you have volunteered yourself, sweet Chihiro.”

There was nowhere to run. They couldn’t get through that sliding door, not in time. Rushing their insane captor was out. Not when he had a gun ready. This room wasn’t large enough to get clever, either. No furniture, just the floor-length table between them. Barely high enough to trip over.

“Kiyo, cut it out…” Sayaka said, half-heartedly. Before she realized that was an unfortunate turn of phrase. “Er, Chihiro doesn’t know what she’s saying, come on.”

“No, this is quite deliberate. And noble. Trying to draw my attention. To buy time for you, you in fact. Time I spend torturing her is time you are spared.”

Chihiro didn’t deny it, standing her ground, even though she had to be shaking on the inside.

Sayaka was horrified to realize he was right.

Insulting his sister, picking that psychological scab, making things worse for herself, it was all a plan. Not the smartest idea, but they were running out of options. The more Kiyo focused on one of them, the less the other would get it. At least right away.

It was time they could use, but it also meant using her friend in a way she would have once been totally fine with.

Not anymore.

Right?

“Would you be so willing to die a martyr, if you knew that Sayaka was a double agent?” Kiyo asked. “That she was sent by the Council to infiltrate your little cult, hmm? She’s been lying to you this whole time. Just like I have. She believes in Atua about as much as I do.”

Chihiro didn’t waver.

“As if anybody would believe a word you have to say.”

“My, my. That’s as may be.” Kiyo giggled like a girl. “Sayaka, now you have a choice to make. All you need to do is disillusion your friend, and you might be able to take her place as the volunteer. You’re both doomed, but I remain agnostic as to how the sentence is carried out. Beyond the use of this trusty knife, of course. I could take it nice and slow. Maybe in the time you’re dying, somebody will uncover us here. Or Chihiro could overpower me. Well, perhaps something else could happen, at least.”

It was a slim chance. But it was all Sayaka had left.

Resorting to prayer now, after all this time, would feel like she was admitting defeat, tossing her life to fate. No. If anything was going to get done in this room, she had to be the one to make it happen.

She could fight Kiyo, if she could disarm him. Chihiro wouldn’t be able to do that.

No, that was just an excuse by now.

Sayaka said nothing, and felt the shame much more deeply than any pain.

“Ah. Disappointing, but not unexpected. Don’t worry. It’s perfectly natural to think of yourself before others. Especially in such a dire situation. Chihiro, clear off the table, and then lie back upon it. Sayaka, stand in the corner over there.”

Chihiro had to offer herself up as a human sacrifice.

As she cleared off the table, she saw outlines and drawings over its wooden surface. Food and items had covered them up, but now, the design, concentric circles in some ritual pattern, were clearly visible.

He’d been planning this all along.

“C-Chihiro, don’t do this,” Sayaka said. She couldn’t help herself. “Don’t just lie down and accept it! I-If he wants to kill us, then he can just shoot us and be done with it.”

Chihiro shook her head. “I know we should fight back. But this is how we’ll fight back, and play for time. This is the only way we can both survive this mess. Atua told me.”

“Kukuku. Splendid. Let’s face off, then. As that troublesome benefactor would say, whose hope will shine the brightest? Whose hope will crush the other’s? It will be beautiful, either way.”

Sayaka had to wait until Kiyo was busy, getting some sick glee out of this. Then she could jump him, get close enough to use the taser hidden in a back pocket of her skirt at all times.

At the right range, she could end this with a single  _zap_.

She had to be the fastest one in this room. Even though Kiyo was a guy, he sure hadn’t trained with a hundred thousand squats the way Sayaka, and her entire idol group, had. He hadn’t gone through physical training so rigorous that he wanted to die, that he begged to die, before he just kept going.

Yet, watching Chihiro just accept this, and justify it with that damned Atua… it was too much. It was worse than the rest of this situation by a mile.

Sayaka was supposed to wait, and bide her time, but she hit her pressure limit.

She couldn’t think clearly anymore.

No more. I can’t take this anymore. The bastard’s been lying to you all this time, Chihiro. I’m not worth it.

I’m not going to let you die for me, no matter what!

Sayaka surged forward with all the strength in her powerful legs.

She reached back towards her waistband, eyes wide with the frenzied fury of a cornered animal.

The gunshot was deafening.

Sayaka felt like she’d been hit by a truck.

The force of the shot tossed her backwards, and she was the one who landed hard on the table. In a panic, she rolled off it to the floor, getting blood everywhere as she rolled in agony, clutching her belly. Nothing felt real. Her ears rang. The gunpowder singed her, it had been so close. In mere moments, she couldn’t feel much of anything. Certainly, there was no sudden flash of overwhelming pain anymore.

When she put a hand back over her abdomen, it came back pink.

Chihiro was at her side before she could think. The smaller, timid girl reached out for Sayaka’s hand, and gripped it tightly, sobbing. Letting out the tears she’d been holding back so bravely.

_This can’t be happening._

_No, it can. This world’s like that. It’s always been the kind of place where a protagonist can just die, rather than finishing out whatever their story was._

_We just pretend not to notice, until one day it catches up to us._

Sayaka had no more energy to struggle.

All she could do was watch Kiyo loom over them both, casting a shadow through the lantern lights that covered both of his victims.

“Too bad. The famous idol had so little nerve, and the programmer has so much. Time to make a choice, Chihiro darling. Which one shall I start with? Will you make Sayaka’s suffering quick, or try to save her even now? Even while she’s dying?”

Sayaka tried to press on the wound, to stop the bleeding, but so much blood went through all the cracks, flowing. Flowing down to the loose floorboards, dripping, pooling, staining everything.

Everything was pink, even her vision.

“Sayaka… you can’t die…”

“A gut wound is slow,” Kiyo explained patiently. “She may live through it, or not. But she is in no immediate danger. She’s certainly done fighting, though. You could say she is ‘safe’.”

Except from the lunatic standing over them with a knife in one hand, and a smoking gun in the other.

“So, Chihiro. I will have you choose. Give yourself up, or give her up?”

Sayaka wanted to tell Chihiro to save herself. That plan, which seemed so absurd, well. Sayaka was already shot. However, Chihiro had changed. She was no longer just a quivering little leaf on the wind. If nothing changed, she’d sacrifice herself for her friend. Because Atua whispered it in her ear, or just because she thought it was the right thing to do.

Compared to Sayaka, Chihiro was the sort of person who actually deserved to survive.

When Sayaka opened her mouth, only blood came out.

“Do your w-worst,” Chihiro said. She walked over on shaking little legs to the table, and laid herself across it, spread-eagle like she was making a snowman in the chalk outlines.

Kiyo was delighted.

“Certainly.”

The maniac bound Chihiro’s hands and feet in metal to the table, one on each corner, leaving no chance of struggle. During that, Chihiro said nothing, just glaring up at their captor. Trying to project sheer defiance.

Trying to show that she wouldn’t let Kiyo win, regardless of what he did.

While Sayaka sat there, barely able to twitch a finger. All she could do was choose whether to watch, or not watch.

She didn’t want to see what came next, but couldn’t look away.

Kiyo was deadly serious. That much was clear already, but he granted Chihiro’s wish. It wouldn’t be a quick death for her, but one of suffering and martyrdom.

“Atua, grant me the strength to endure even this-”

_Stab. Stab. Stab._

“A-Atua, take away the pain… oh god…”

_Stab. Stab. Stab._

“Kiyo… stop this… please…”

There was _so much blood_.

Kiyo drew it out, an experienced killer working at his ‘art form’.

He was careful not to stab anywhere vital, or even damage Chihiro’s beautiful face. He took delight in finding places to stab that weren’t essential. Of course, when he’d sliced her enough like a piece of meat, it would all prove fatal.

A death by a thousand cuts.

Starting small, until he was jabbing that blood-splattered knife back in with vehement force.

“ **Apologize**. Apologize to Sister.”

Chihiro screamed and cried, even though she nearly bit her tongue off trying to contain it. She sang a cruel song at Kiyo’s behest, helpless to resist. All she could do was die as ‘beautifully’ as he demanded.

And, of course, she apologized. “Oh Atua, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it! I d-d-din’t mean to insult your Sister!”

It bought a reduction in the pace. In some ways, that was even more cruel. Chihiro was going to die, and leave a void in the world that would be felt forever. Her friends, the Black Hats, her ‘big brothers’ Mondo and Taka, all the Ultimates who loved her for her innocent kindness and smarts, for her important role in the group, would all feel it.

The only question now was how long it would take.

Once he finished with her, he’d come for Sayaka. That much was obvious, but it was far from the idol’s mind. Once, her own safety would have been the only thing consuming her.

Now, even though it _hurt_ , she pulled herself forward by centimeters across the ground.

Leaving a streak of pink as she went, dragging that bullet in her gut right along with her.

_This isn’t for my sake. This is for you, Chihiro. I’m not a very good person. I’m not worth your sacrifice. I think your ‘god’ is crap. But I can repay my debts._

This wasn’t like any pain Sayaka had ever experienced before. It got worse as time went on, and the shock wore off. Yet, Sayaka had trained harder than anyone else. She had worked harder. She climbed the ranks of an industry rife with corruption and exploitation, all for the sake of her own dream.

_This is just the next thing I have to overcome._

_Chihiro is suffering far more than me, right up there. I can’t stop here!_

_I can’t die yet!_

Safe in the knowledge that both girls were disabled, Kiyo had left the gun on the edge of the table. In fact, on the edge closest to Sayaka. A final insult, or an invitation.

Sayaka had no choice but to go for it. Her taser had fallen out and clattered over ot a corner of the room.

It may as well have been in outer space, for all the good it did them now.

The gun was the only option.

Urged along with each pull by Chihiro’s increasingly-hoarse screams, Sayaka dragged her useless body forward.

The idol crawled along, even when it felt like her arms just wouldn’t move any longer. Her muscles and brain and flesh screamed. There was no time left. It didn't matter if she could do it, or not. She had to do it.

It was such a little distance, for anybody who hadn’t been shot.

She had to… r e a c h…

Sayaka let herself close her eyes.

Just for a  m o m e n t.

She had no clue how long it was until she woke back up, but voices stirred her to crane her neck.

Kiyo, realizing his fun would be over far too soon, was taking a slower approach.

Chihiro was definitely still alive. In fact, she could speak, barely.

What she said struck Kiyo harder than any attack could have.

“I’m a boy, you know.”

It brought the murderer up cold. He stopped everything he was doing, to stare warily at the girl he’d sliced to ribbons. “You have a strange sense of humor. Although I’m hardly one to judge. Everyone reacts differently when the _end_ is nigh. I’ll remember you, just like I remember all of them. I promise.”

“Check if you… want…”

Considering everything he’d done so far, it would have been effortless for Kiyo to, as Chihiro suggested, ‘check’. Yet he didn’t. In fact, he’d done nothing sexual to either of them, in spite of Sayaka’s worst, darkest fears.

A tiny mercy in the midst of endless darkness.

Sayaka’s head was swimming too much to make sense of it, but clearly Chihiro had figured something out. Even as she was in such pain, even as she died, Chihiro…

Was that true? Was ‘she’ a ‘he’?

It hardly mattered now, at least to Sayaka. It wouldn’t have mattered even if they weren’t both going to die.

Yet it would make all the difference to this deranged monster.

Sayaka found something like a voice, although her countless fans worldwide wouldn’t have recognized it. Or the sunken-eyed zombie wreck who raised her head enough to say, “That means you’ve only got ninety-nine. Too bad.”

_“No.”_

Kiyo recoiled in horror.

“ **No!** You’re just… _saying_ that! A pitiful last gasp of a dying girl! A strategy that won’t stop me for one second!”

“If you’re too… shy….” Chihiro coughed up some of her(?) blood, but she did it with a smile. “You can look after I’m dead. It’ll be the same. You’ve lost.”

While both Sayaka and Chihiro were done for by this point, Kiyo was, in his own sick way, just as trapped. There would be no more time to lure victims, or disguise what he’d done. Even now, somebody may have heard that gunshot, or reported it to Security. Or the absence of two girls(?) might have been noticed somewhere.

It certainly would, given time.

This room was covered in gore and both bodies would be a bitch for him to move once they couldn’t move on their own. It wasn’t like this room was a secret. Not to mention, if he couldn’t use this place, where else would he lure a girl where she couldn’t call for help or run away?

He’d gotten them, sure.

But if a hundred girls was his goal, and he wouldn’t settle for mess, and Chihiro was telling the truth… no, the fact that Kiyo clearly believed it, despite his ranting, was all that mattered. Even if it was all just a ploy, it was the perfect ploy for somebody so messed up.

Whether or not it was a lie, it became the perfect truth.

Kiyo was a machine. Cries for mercy did nothing to him, except make him more excited. He was prepared for struggling and escape attempts. He had a place marked out. He’d been observing them. Kiyo no doubt felt like he knew them better than they knew themselves.

For once, just once, Sayaka had seen the ever-smug Kiyo _proven wrong_ about somebody.

‘That’s…. I mean, a boy could be used instead, if I… needed to… not that I would believe such a pathetic lie…. No…. No!”

“Sorry,” Chihiro whispered. “All three of us are big, fat, liars. And all three of us have lost.”

It wasn’t the same as victory, but they’d take it.

From the jaws of this horror, they’d take even this much of a defeat of that piece of shit.

At least Sayaka could rest, with that. Which she had to do anyhow.

She was out of energy.

So close to the gun, but so far away.

If Sayaka Maizono had to meet her end on this insane island, at the hands of somebody she’d trusted, then at least she could listen to his anguished cries. His disbelief, his outrage.

Maybe she was still a petty, spiteful girl deep down, but that was enough.

_Makoto… Kyouko… I wish we’d had more time together as a Thing._

_It was the best days of my life._

_I’m sorry for taking so much time to hang out with the Black Hats._

_In fact, Angie and all you, I’m sorry for lying to you all._

_I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save Chihiro, or even myself._

_It was supposed to be my forte. Singing, and looking out for number one._

_Please, live on… for me at least… Don’t lose to Monokuma, or the Ultimate Hunt, or any of this shit. Show them what ‘despair’ really means._

_At least now, I’ll get to see firsthand what was true, and what was lies._

_I’m guessing there’s nothing up there. Just from how things are down here. But hey, who really knows?_

_Only the dead._

_I’m sorry, Makoto. I’m sorry, Kyouko._

_I’m sorry, everyone._

Sayaka let go.

She never expected to wake up again.

Yet, she did.

Or rather, she was ready to pass on, but something disturbed the rest she’d earned.

She heard something, and opened her eyes. Then, with great difficulty, she looked up. Her head felt like the heaviest object in the world, and she was so groggy. Thinking was difficult.

All she had to do was stare in amazement, though. She could do that.

It was a blood-soaked miracle. Just the kind this blood-soaked idol needed.

The door crashed open, exploding in a fireball.

Sound, heat, and pressure washed over the room, sending wood splinters flying from the sheer force of the blast. A spirit of black and red came through the curtain of smoke. Its form was hazy and indistinct, vaguely like a human’s. But the eyes.

Those glowing red eyes.

They weren’t human.

They burned with all the fire Sayaka wanted to unleash on that bastard. All the fire she couldn’t let out herself. All of Chihiro’s desire to fight back.

An angel of death, or a spirit from hell.

Kiyo, an indistinct blur, a shadow, turned in surprise. A burning arrow wreathed in flames shot from the spirit. Kiyo dodged it just barely, and bits of his long black hair burned off. He reached for the gun, and fired back, the muzzle flash like a blinding sun to Sayaka.

People couldn’t outrun a bullet, but this spirit wasn’t playing by the same rules.

It leapt onto the walls, running along them, dodging shots… and firing back. The way it moved was astounding, Sayaka couldn’t even focus on it. The spirit was a blur, and nothing could hit it.

One of the arrows struck Kiyo in the chest, though. The bastard sank to the floor.

The burning spirit landed back on the floor. It glided over to Kiyo’s prone figure. Sayaka couldn’t tell what had happened to him. She couldn’t make out any details. He was covered in shadows like most of the room was. Swirling masses of black tendrils and clouds that narrowed her vision.

Only with focus could she watch what happened, and Sayaka gave it her all to see what happened next.

Just for good measure, point-blank, the spirit put another arrow in him.

_Kick the bastard, too. For us._

He kept moving, a little bit. But it was over. Another moment, and this spirit, which was the embodiment of two girls’ helpless rage, would strike the killer blow.

Vengeance.

Sayaka had always believed herself beyond salvation, and she knew that now for a fact. But at least she could see this one. However it was happening. She didn’t know what was going on, or if this was even real. She could have just been hallucinating as her brain shut down.

She didn’t see her life flash before her eyes, but she did see the end of that motherfucker’s life.

That had to be good enough, right?

 _Apparently_ not.

 ** _Apparently_ ** she was still needed in this world for something.

At least when Sayaka opened her eyes this time, she saw the most beautiful sight she could have hoped for.

Makoto’s face, streaked in tears.

“There’s nothing we can do,” He said earnestly, and through the haze, Sayaka heard his words. She clung to them, like she’d clung to his memory throughout her career. “For you or Chihiro. I’m sorry, but this is the end. Give up, Sayaka! Give up and die.”

_What?_

_Oh,_ right _._

Sayaka managed something that might resemble a laugh.

_Fine, asshole. If that’s how you really feel, I’ll try and hold on._

_Just for you._

Makoto and Kyouko were there with her, and helped other figures drag her to safety.

Out of that horrible place.

Out of the darkness, and into the light.

She wasn’t the only one, either. Chihiro was there, beside her, chest rising and falling.

_Thank whatever._

Kiyo, too, was laid out besides them, and Sayaka could see him weakly move.

_Damnit._

He was still _so fucked_. It was okay.

It wouldn’t be easy, but all three of them might live, still. Sayaka would have never bet on that outcome when this started. How unlikely was it that they’d even been rescued?

_What happened?_

Sayaka was too tired for all this, too tired to understand.

_It looks like I won’t learn that truth today. I won’t see what happens when you die. But that’s alright. I’ll figure it out one day._

_The truth is overrated anyhow._


	36. 2-14. Truth and Reconciliation (Hajime)

There was still something in the air around the dojo.

Maybe that was just the ash, soot, and vaporized sakura leaves.

Those trees, so beautiful and striking, a slice of Japan, were long dead. Most had burned or been blown apart into splinters. Their blackened bodies littered the area. The few standing walls were charred black too, hardened on the spot from infernos like the ruins were a clay art project.

There was no roof anymore.

Chunks of metal and concrete from the superstructure stuck out like bones at odd angles. When the structure collapsed, it buried everything. All the practice mats, fighting equipment, and almost all of the protein warehouse.

In addition to even more tangle losses therein.

Sakura sat, silent and stoic, in the midst of this chaos.

The eye of the storm?

More like she had a storm brewing inside of her.

The others needed somebody to talk to Sakura. Even her fellow martial artist Tenko just shoved Hajime in the direction of the Ultimate Lab. “Y-You’re the one who trained with her so much! Take responsibility for this!”

Like it was _Hajime’s_ fault that Monokuma couldn’t aim.

Whatever.

Somebody had to go to Sakura, and make sure she was alright. Or at least, that she wouldn’t be doing anything drastic. Tonight would be rough, with Monokuma’s impending announcement. A lot of people were already showing signs they’d crack under the pressure.

Sakura had to be there for everyone, just like she always was.

_No, that’s the problem._

_That’s what everybody expects. The truth is, everybody has to be there for Sakura, for once. She’s not just a wall we can all hide behind._

_She’s our friend, too._

It was one thing to tell himself that being scared of Sakura was stupid, and everyone were acting like frightened mice.

It was another to walk up to Sakura in that condition. She wrote with a long paintbrush thing on parchment. Just like a samurai calmly composing one last poem amidst the ruins of their burned-out castle, before they ended things ‘with honor’.

Just exactly like that.

Watching her calmly writing poetry amidst the beautiful ruin was a hundred times more disconcerting than if she was rampaging and roaring and screaming the anger that was clear on her weathered, battle-scarred face.

“Sakura?” Hajime said, softly.

Sakura took a moment to reply. “Hello, Hajime. What’s going on? Am I needed?”

“Uh, not that I know of,” Hajime said. “Yet, anyhow. I’m not here to fetch you, or anything.”

“Then please, have a seat.”

By that, she of course meant the most traditionally Japanese seat of all. The floor. Hajime had learned to endure it through their lessons together, so he didn’t mind sitting at her table. Sakura kept going regardless, the elegant brushstrokes of black ink showing an affinity for calligraphy. It _was_ an art.

A dying art. The digital age made people rely more on ones and zeroes than ink and paper by the day. Soon, people who could write beautiful calligraphy would be just as in-demand as blacksmiths who could forge a strong katana.

“What brings you here, my friend?”

No point delaying. “I’m worried about you, Sakura. Everyone’s worried. Are you okay? Recent events have been a lot to take in, and after Monokuma…”

Sakura gave a smile with no light behind it. “I have no secret worth so much as a human life,” she said. “We can hardly rely on that being true for everyone.”

It was a terrible thought, but the way things were going… “Shuichi has a plan for handling it. We should leave it to him and the others. Honestly, I’m not here to ask for your help. If anything, you need a break.” He looked up and around at the ruins. “Badly.”

Sakura didn’t reply.

They sat there for a while.

“If you’ve been released, then…?”

Hajime shook his head. “Sorry. She’s still burning up, and passing out. When she’s not, uh, acting out.” He wanted to have good news, by all means. Yet, Hina was in the half of DD patients who weren't showing any signs of recovery. Mikan wanted to free up beds and time, but not at the expense of releasing anybody who was potentially still infectious or running fevers.

Against all odds, this outbreak was burning itself out.

Mild cases, like Hajime, who only caught it second-hand by being a touch reckless and very heroic and manful, were the first to be discharged. Mikan predicted more releases today, assuming nobody died.

That had sounded funny hours back. Thinking on it, Mikan didn’t look like she was kidding when she said that.

“There’s still hope, though,” Hajime offered. “She’s stable, and she’s safe.”

Sakura nodded. “Much as apocalyptic thinking may have its charm, the truth is, I haven’t lost everything.” She glanced down at the parchment. “My family’s scroll was lost a long time ago. Everything on it is memorized by each generation of Oogami women. I can write a new one. All that was really lost was some old parchment. Really, the only shame is that it was a heartfelt gift from Shuichi.”

“Gifts? Definitely the way to win friends and influence people,” Hajime said. “I’d know. If you ever run out of protein, I won a stupid amount in the casino. Before it was destroyed.”

Where the hell was Hajime going to get knick-knacks now?

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sakura finished the section she was working on, and rose up, stretching. Not that they were eye-to-eye before, but it really drove home how enormous she was.

“You’re stronger than me,” Hajime said.

“... You’ve just now noticed?”

“No, I don’t mean physically. Or, just physically. I mean, if I’d gone through all that stuff, I’d lose it. No way would I still have the strength to, like. Carry on. At all.”

“I don’t know about that. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sakura peered at him contemplatively. “You did just get out of the hospital. You fought for survival, and emerged victorious.”

“I guess that’s true.” All Hajime did was sit around and be sad, and avoid dying. That wasn’t much of an accomplishment. “I mean. You’re certainly taking this better than Teruteru is. Moving around his ruined restaurant, pretending to prepare meals at broken electrical stoves and rotting meat lockers. Just because he ‘refuses to acknowledge’ the freaking bombs happened to it. Like reality needs his consent. Which is extra ironic given everything. Then occasionally, when he can’t manage the lie anymore, he just breaks down sobbing. ‘Momma, momma’...”

“Don’t look down too far upon him,” Sakura reprimanded him. “He’s suffered more than his share. Even I’ve had to… _discipline_ him when his hands roamed too far, once or twice.”

_How the hell are you still alive, man?_

Hajime balled a fist. “I can’t believe he went so far. I can’t believe I defended that moron like I’m a spiky-haired defense attorney from one of Chiaki’s games. Me and Nagito are gonna have to… I don’t know. Maybe we will deep fry the little pervert.”

Sakura held up a hand. “In a way, I was flattered. He’s hardly a threat, and he’s certainly not my type. In any respect whatsoever. Yet, unlike most men, he didn’t look at me as some ‘ogre’. He just saw yet another woman. A human being worthy of his twisted affections. That was refreshing. Not to mention, there is at least something that connects us. A level upon which I may respect him deeply.”

Hajime stared. “Wanna share that with the class?”

“Family.”

“Ah.”

Hajime loved his folks like most people did, but he couldn’t say ‘family’ was a core value or anything. Honestly, he was still trying to figure out his own path. He was grateful for all they’d done, especially forking up for Hope’s Peak. He’d wanted to leave the nest, to prove the doubters wrong. To go to Hope’s Peak and live there on campus among all the Ultimates, so badly.

He’d had no clue that his admiration for HPA could have led him here, now.

After all that had happened, it was comical to even reflect on it.

Which in turn, made her next remark comical too. “I’m wasting away like this.” She still looked like as much of a rippling beast as ever. “Come, just because the training ground was lost, that doesn’t mean we can’t train. Shall we?”

It was a hand being reached out, tentatively. Only because of what they’d been through together.

“Sure. Moving our bodies should take the edge off, too. At least for a while.”

Hajime could only hope that all the potential hotspots were being resolved so smoothly. Or at least nobody’d been hurt.

When they reached central island, and watched an ambulance rumble past, lights blazing, siren blaring, that was a pretty definitive ‘no’.

Sakura and Hajime shared a wordless look of concern.

They took off for the hospital.

In spite all of his hard work at those training sessions, Sakura moved a lot faster. Duh. Sometimes, talent really did win out over effort. Sometimes, no matter how an average person worked, it wouldn’t be enough. She left plumes of dust and dirt in her wake as she dashed ahead like an armored vehicle grinding along.

By the time Hajime got there, they were unloading… them.

Shuichi, and Nagito.

Both of them were covered in blood.

Their _own_ blood!

_“What the fuck…?”_

Hajime went right for Nagito, demanding answers, but his way was barred. By Sakura herself. “Hang on, Hajime. Don’t come any closer.”

“Hang on…? What? Sakura, what’s… what’s going on? What happened to them!?”

Sakura looked away. “From what I was just told… you should avoid speaking to Nagito for a while.”

“What?”

Nothing made any sense.

Nothing anybody said to him, which were basically just riffs off Sakura’s main point, made any sense. Nothing Hajime saw made any sense anymore. He couldn’t square the bloody, mangled bodies of his friends, barely so much as breathing, stabbed through all their limbs gruesomely, with the last time he’d seen them.

Just hours ago, hale and hearty. Just like normal. Just like they’d always been.

Now this?

“Are you kidding?”

“I’m not in a joking mood,” Sakura replied. “I’m not asking you to laugh, but just to trust me, Hajime. I appreciate that you came to check on me. I want to pay back that concern now, by preventing you from taking needless actions.”

Hajime stared up at her. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s nothing you can do, Hajime,” Mikan explained in passing, a blur of motion. Her voice was different, pitched down, far more serious and steady. Even her usual manner at the hospital wasn’t quite like this. “We’ll do what we can, but you need to stay out of my way.”

Kokichi was on hand, to helpfully drive the point home even deeper. “Unless you’re about to awaken to an actual useful talent, you’d just be a burden. Like you were before, when you caught the disease!”

 _That_ nearly got him punted across the island by Sakura, only stopped by the fact that he was right.

“Not the way I’d choose to word it,” She hissed. “Yet, it can only be true. Their conditions are critical. Mikan must be allowed to do whatever she feels will save their lives, unimpeded by any concern or obstacle. As to what happened, and what we do going forward… all of that can wait.”

“They’re also super worried you or Chiaki will talk with Nagito for some reason if, and when, he wakes up,” Kokichi revealed. He spoke about matters of life and death, as usual with chillingly callous casualness. “So, you know. Good to know.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell him that, dumbass! Shoo! Come on, get out of here! Before I give you a better reason to be in the hospital!” An incensed Kazuichi emerged from the ambulance, and waved Kokichi away.

With a wrench.

Off the gremlin went, chortling to himself all the way.

Hajime collapsed onto the ground.

“What’s happening…”

“H-Hajime, man, come on.” Kazuichi wasn’t exactly the heart-to-heart guy, evne towards somebody who’d been steadily working his way into the most coveted of Kazuichi’s mental territories. A place he, himself, was deeply familiar with.

The friendzone.

“He’s gonna make it. They both will. I mean, Mikan’s never let us down before. Right, Sakura?”

“I’ve entrusted my… girlfriend....” Sakura blushing was a rare sight, but Hajime was in no condition to enjoy it. “To her skilled care. As Nagito himself did when you were taken ill. As now you must do, in turn. With Chiaki, and now Nagito. We have to believe in her.”

There was no choice but to hope and believe.

Hajime couldn’t do either of those, right now.

“Has… anybody told Chiaki?” They shook their heads. “Then you’ve gotta let me do it. Get me a mask or whatever, and tell me everything you guys know. Then I’ll go talk to her.”

“Even in that condition?” Kazuichi said. “I don’t know if that’s good. For you or her…”

“You couldn’t stop him, even if you wanted to,” Angie said, cheerfully popped up between them and startling both. “It’s a force more powerful than any danger or doubt. What I see is nothing short of love! Atua says this is the right way to handle it anyhow, so I’ll give my approval too.”

“W-Who are you to ‘approve’ anything?” Kazuichi demanded. “When did you ever win an election? Huh? I sure didn’t vote for you, you kooky bobblehead!”

“You weren’t able to,” Sakura pointed out.

“I may not be _elected_ , but I am the _elect_ ,” Angie explained. As calm and matter-of-fact as Byakuya used to explain why he was better than everyone. It wasn’t any more valid here, but it was delivered with shadowed, sunken serious eyes and a lack of her usual smile.

Even Sakura had nothing to say to that.

“Now, Hajime!”

Angie clapped, and just like that, she was back to a cute, friendly, comforting girl.

“You wanted to know, and I can tell you. I have all the sordid deets. Luckily, Atua gave me a vision at just the right time, so we could dispatch help and end the standoff at Touko’s Ultimate Lab.”

In contrast to her bright, warm cheer, Hajime was an empty shell.

Eyes vacant, face blank, tone breathy and thin. Yet, he did in fact want to know.

No, he needed to know.

He was going to learn, then he was going to tell Chiaki.

“... Touko? It happened at her library? … Why?”

Angie sighed. “You maaay want to take a seat for this one. C’mon, guys. Let’s go into the lobby.”

Good call.

The ensuing story was, even for standards of this absurd island and its lunatics called Ultimates, completely insane.

Hajime wanted to throw up. He just didn’t have enough on his stomach, so he just kept listening.

He said nothing throughout, just listening.

“.... And so, I dispatched a response team in force on that heavenly hunch. Tenko, Mikan, and Security and volunteers in one of the ambulances, driven by this trusty rusty Kazuichi here. Since Mondo’s still pouting somewhere.”

“When we got there, things were… bad.” Kazuichi shook his head. “Holy shit, like wow.”

Not very descriptive, but that was a mercy in this case.

Hajime didn't, in fact, want to hear all the details about how his boyfriend, and their mutual friend, _were both crucified_.

“Then I guess…” Hajime broke his stunned silence, “You saved them. You saved _him_.”

“In a really roundabout way, maybe,” Kazuichi grumbled, quietly. “I just drove the ambulance. I was too scared to do much else.”

“Guess we did!” Angie was much more willing to accept praise. Always. As often as possible, and then some. Her policy towards it was like her policy towards strong drinks; ‘yes please’. “Although it would be more accurate to say that Atua saved them, Hajime. If you have anybody to thank, then it must be him. Will you all join me in a short prayer to celebrate the miracle?”

Given what happened, they were lucky anyone made it out of that serial killer’s basement.

Hajime was about as far from all this stuff as it was possible to get. With good reason. He wasn’t stupid, for one. Big one. He could see what Angie was doing, plain as day, like everyone. More so. Byakuya talked about his ‘skeptical nature’, but Hajime was the same.

None of that mattered in that moment, though. “Sure.”

Kazuichi neither joined in, or left. He said nothing, tersely watching.

Sakura bowed her head and put her hands together, following in Hajime’s footsteps.

“Noble Atua. Thank you so much for delivering our beloved friends from the grip of evil. Thank you for showing us the way. Thank you for this miraculous outcome. We give thanks in your name, amen.”

“Amen,” Hajime and Sakura said.

_Doesn’t mean I’m joining your crackpot cult, Angie. I just really am grateful._

_Atua, or God, or blind dumb luck, or whatever. Maybe it was just Nagito’s talent, saving his sweet ass yet again. Whatever and whoever’s responsible, that doesn't change the fact that the idiot is gonna make it._

_He has to. Please._

_That’s why I have to tell Chiaki, and help her understand. Like these guys did for me._

“And now.” Sakura’s demeanor darkened. “Where is this murderous fiend?”

“Sakura,” Angie said, shaking her head. “Kyouko has the situation well in hand. She’s personally dragging Genocider Syo to jail. She promised to protect Genocider if she surrendered. Which she did.”

“I have no intention of dishonoring Kyouko’s bravery, or her word,” Sakura said. “I just don’t want to leave anything else to chance. I will find Kyouko, and ensure nothing else happens. Once Genocider Syo is locked away in ‘the invincible fortress’, we can breathe easier.”

Things could never be the same again, with that monster on the same island as everyone else. It would be better, though.

“Oh, fine, go ahead,” Angie said. “Good luck!”

“Just one problem,” Kazuichi said, turning back to Hajime as Sakura took her leave. “Which girl are you gonna talk to?”

“Which one?”

“Miu, or Chiaki?”

The body-swapping victims hadn’t gotten better.

Mikan, not being insane, didn’t even know what ‘recovery’ would look like in that context. When everybody started acting like themselves again? Regardless, they were still running fevers and sniffling. Infectious and infected, and possibly delirious. Or under the effect of something that made Himiko’s magic look tame by contrast.

While Kazuichi’s point sounded like a joke, he had a good point.

Chiaki’s body was acting, in every way, and would insist loudly and profanely, that she was actually Miu Iruma, gorgeous girl genius. Mentally and emotionally, there wasn’t a trace of Chiaki Nanami, Ultimate Gamer, and the woman Hajime loved. While Miu’s body, likewise, behaved like, and claimed to be, Chiaki. Her behavior and attitude was exact.

Miu-Chiaki was what they called Chiaki’s body saying she was Miu. Chiaki-Miu was likewise Miu’s body, who had ‘become’ Chiaki.

“I mean, at the end of the day, it’s got to be Chiaki, right?” Kazuichi said.

“But which one is Chiaki?” Angie squished her cheeks together. “Miu-Chiaki, or Chiaki-Miu?”

“... The one that looks exactly like the girl we’ve always known as Chiaki?” Kazuichi said. “I mean, whatever she says, she’s got to just be delirious, right? Making it up. Fever-dreams, but the awake kind. Right? She’s still physically Chiaki.”

“That depends on what you believe,” Hajime said. “And who you believe.”

What a tangled mess they were wrapped up in.

There wasn’t much time to mull it over, either.

Hajime grabbed a ‘dinner’ of packaged food, eating in the lobby and going back and forth with some of the others about the issue. Most of the guys he talked to said that he should talk to Miu-Chiaki. Girls told him to go to Chiaki-Miu and trust her word over his own two eyes.

_It’s not like I can just pick one and be totally sure, either._

_If her mind was ‘transferred’, then Miu’s body is hers now. If it wasn't, then it’s not._

_Can I really go up and embrace a girl who’s not my girlfriend?_

Some notable voices were missing on his shoulder. Makoto, Shuichi, and Kaede were all out. Kaede had gone mad, Shuichi was in critical condition, and Makoto was running around trying to put out fires. Chiaki and Nagito, Hajime’s most important people, were both out for this decision.

They hadn’t told him the full story about Nagito, yet.

But he did know that both Hajime and Chiaki were forbidden from seeing him until Security sorted things out.

Which couldn’t mean anything good.

At least Ibuki was here.

More than ever, he wanted to kiss the punk-rocker girl just for being who she was, and being wacky. She even managed to briefly distract him from the tough choice, until his mind wandered back.

As it turned out, he dithered long enough to see sirens again out the front windows of the lobby.

This ambulance was carrying Sayaka, shot in the gut, Chihiro, sliced to ribbons with a knife, and Kiyo, shot with several arrows still sticking out of him. Their red-plumed feathers quivered as he took shallow breaths.

Hajime’s first impulse was to gawk. He indulged that as he learned what he could about this incident, and how close it was, in time and the events therein, to the other.

Absurdly close.

Right down to the seeming impossibility that all three participants, even the alleged perpetrator, Kiyo, survived it.

“We’re eating our own,” Kazuichi wiped his forehead, crashing on the seat next to Hajime. “Fuck. I hate being proven right, especially this right. I don’t want to drive that damn screaming banshee of an ambulance. Hell, I don’t even like regular cars to begin with! Bikes are really my thing, but it’s me or, uh. Fuyuhiko might know how to drive a getaway car after a heist, but that’s about it. After that it’s ‘college student drivers’ all the way down.”

The hell _was_ Fuyuhiko lately, anyhow?

Where had a bunch of people slipped off to?

Hajime only had the brainpower to spare a single moment for anything that didn’t involve the current situation, so he wrote it off. He could follow up on that later, there’d be time.

He watched the first stretcher go by. Hajime exchanged glances with a haunted Kyouko. She was escorting, of course, Sayaka through the lobby.

The others were right.

Hajime was no medic, or therapist, or detective.

He was just a guy.

What he could do was be there for his girlfriend, and talk her though this. They could work it out together. They had to be stronger together than they were apart, that’s how it worked. It was time to get his ass in gear, and go to her.

Kazuichi watched Hajime get to his feet. “Hey. Good luck, man.”

“I’m not the one who needs that right now,” Hajime said, as Chihiro was wheeled past. “Do whatever you can for them, Kazuichi. Any kind of, I don’t know machine things.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Kazuichi grumbled. “Damnit. Now I’m back to a hot, in-demand item. Chihiro’s dying, Miu’s insane, and may also be your girlfriend, you son of a bitch…” Rather than the tough-guy routine he sometimes put on, Kazuichi looked like he was on the verge of tears. “It’s not gonna stop, Hajime. This is just the start. The warm-up act for what’s gonna happen in… fuck. Just a few hours, now. Just remember, when the time comes, I’ll have your back. … Assuming you’re not secretly evil.”

‘Same to you, buddy.” Hajime patted him on the shoulder, and then took off towards the nearest elevator.

With the uproar surrounding these two incidents, back-to-back, Hajime didn’t expect anybody to be manning the quarantine checkpoint.

Especially not Taka.

“Where do _you_ think you’re going?” The glorified hall monitor, resplendent in his glittering white gang embroidery, demanded. He’d recovered. Except for the fact that his hair remained snow-white rather than going back to normal. And the occasional wheezing cough, or attempt at a swear word.

“I need to see Chiaki. It’s about all this stuff that’s happening.”

“Oh, right. Angie radioed ahead, you’re cleared to enter.”

Hajime blinked. “Just like that? Is she really in charge, here?”

“Not to all of us, yet.” Taka didn’t answer directly. What he said in a whisper was even more concerning. “If things get much worse, Hajime, then everybody’s going to have to pick a side. Just be prepared if that day comes.”

Fucking great.

Whatever, it got him through.

With the number of patients who were released, or at least cleared to work odd jobs around the hospital rather than sit around all day, the occupancy pressure was way down. Each patient could now be afforded their own hospital room to hack and wheeze and stink up.

Which still meant Hajime had a choice to make.

He skidded to a stop in the middle of the Light Containment Zone, before a pair of doors. Looking between one, and then the other, gave him no clear answer.

He just had to pick one, and live with the choice.

Hajime went through the one whose nameplate, and small chibi figure painted by Angie, portrayed the smirking **MIU IRUMA**.

She was there.

Chiaki-Miu was lying in bed, playing a mobile game console. As she’d done, ever since somebody finally figured out she might like it from Chiaki’s room. In fact, since the disaster had levelled the hotel complexes, that was probably the final game console on the whole island.

No wonder Chiaki clung to it so badly. Like an addict whose supply was drying up fast.

“Chiaki?”

No response.

That was normal. Hajime stepped forward, until he blocked out some of the light on her. Which still produced no reaction. Chiaki was absorbed into the game.

Chirpy chiptunes and pixelated noises filled the otherwise sterile and silent hospital room.

Touching was a touchy subject still. Hajime had to choice but to cup his hands over Miu Iruma’s ear, and yell, “Chiaki!” Hoping to startle her and see a cute, fluffy reaction.

As usual, though, she just tilted her head and glanced over. “Oh, good evening, Hajime.” The voice that made that sound belonged to the Ultimate Inventor, but it was alien. Miu’s voice just didn’t sound right unless she was screaming obscenities and trying to screw something.

_Talk about uncanny. But that’s nothing, compared to Miu-Chiaki._

“How’s it going?” Hajime asked. He resorted to the most lame of questions one could ask a gamer. “Are you winning?”

“Duh.”

Well, yeah.

Hajime was a bright boy, but he did occasionally ask really obvious questions. Really, it was just a tactic to dull the tension in a room. It definitely wasn’t because he just sometimes missed obvious things, shut up.

He expected to have another gripping ‘talk to Chiaki on a time-lag like she’s on Mars because she’s gaming and her brain only has one track’ conversation. Like usual. However, instead, she saved her progress at the nearest checkpoint. Chiaki switched off the game, leaving the room now silent and quiet.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

Chiaki’s least favorite genre was VNs and dating games. They involved a lot of figuring out what characters were feeling. That sort of person-centric design, even for fictional characters, clashed with her, uh, lack of personal experience. It was the same for reality, too, of course.

The fact that Chiaki could tell Hajime was distraught meant he was making it really obvious.

“I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” Hajime sighed, taking a seat beside her bed. “I don’t know how to say this, but… there’s been an incident. A violent incident. No, two. People have been hurt. Nearly killed.”

Chiaki stared at him for a long time.

Her expression didn’t change.

Finally, she simply asked, “What happened?”

Hajime took a deep breath. “Monokuma’s announcement is driving people up the wall. People who are worried about their secrets getting out. Mostly that’s just resulted in people going off on their own to soul search or whatever. Well, uh. It turns out, two of us… two of our friends, were…” Hajime didn’t have words to describe the monstrous evil. He could barely put the events that had happened into any kind of rational explanation. “Insane. Dangerous psychos.”

“Crazy enough to try and kill somebody?”

“From what they reportedly said, both Touko and Kiyo are murderers already. That’s the secret they didn’t want to get out. Since they couldn’t go after Monokuma or make him stop, they…”

“Decided to take it out on whoever they could find.”

Who was explaining things to whom, again?

“I don’t know the whole story. They were just bringing in Sayaka, Chihiro, and Kiyo off the ambulance when I came up here. But, uh. Yeah. It’s bad. We’re lucky nobody was killed.”

Chiaki looked away. “We haven’t even gotten to the announcement, yet.”

“Yeah.” Hajime shook his head. “I really don’t want to think about it, but if somebody else goes nuts, I… I need to be here, so I can. I don’t know. Help you and Nagito, and make sure nothing happens.”

“Nagito’s in bad shape?”

“Mikan said he was ‘critical’ earlier. I haven’t heard any differently. In fact, both of us are forbidden from seeing him, even when he does wake up.”

“Forbidden? Why?” Chiaki tilted her head.

“I still don’t know that part.”

Chiaki took a while to process this.

“That’s really bad.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

As it turned out, ‘emotional support’ wasn’t in Chiaki’s arsenal of moves yet. In fact, Hajime wasn’t the best at it, either. At least they could try, though. Or something.

What ended up happening was a whole lot of nothing and moping about.

At least they did that together. Just being in her presence soothed him, and the reverse was true. Not that it was easy to tell relaxed Chiaki from tense Chiaki. Their languid, sleepy behavior was often the same.

The radio by Chiaki’s bedside crackled to life.

_“Greetings, everybody!_

_We interrupt our regular evening broadcast of Atua’s Word for a super-special event. Because the Council has failed to vote on Angie’s proposal, I’m just gonna do it anyhow! Try and stop me, if you feel like tangling with Atua’s newest convert, Himiko the Great!”_

_“Nyeh. I drank a lot of big mana potions, too, so my energy is back to full. It’s not like I believe any of this stuff… Angie’s just found the only way to end this without killings.”_

_“Mhm!~ Monokuma wants us to tear each other apart. So far, strong plan. It’s worked great. It’ll work even more great when his announcement comes. We’ve only got so many miracles left before we’ve used them up, and our friends are killing each other over the secrets of the old world._

_Atua granted me a terrible vision this morning. The Ultimates won’t fall to the Hunt, or meteors, or diseases, or any of that. The Ultimates will destroy themselves. Friends will kill friends._

_Well, I hardly needed a special vision to see that coming. Everyone is afraid of it, but feels powerless to stop it. Most dare not even speak up about it, even as the hour comes round. Angie felt the same way, once._

_Therefore! I prayed for a way to masterfully derail his plan and save the new world._

_Atua provides. There’s just one way, but he mercifully revealed it to me._

_Together, we’re going to take away the power of this sinister ‘motive’._

**_By coming forward on our own, and of our own volition, and announcing our deepest and darkest secrets, live on this program right here!_ **

_Let’s call this edition of the program **Truth and Reconciliation**!”_

“She’s kidding.”

Chiaki shook her head. “She’s not.”

“She’s got to be! That’s _insane_!”

“That’s Angie.”

_“If you step forward now, and reveal whatever Monokuma’s gonna say anyhow, then you will be absolved._

_It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter what you are. It doesn’t matter what dark secret you may be holding. As long as you disclose it willingly, and work with the group to prevent more violence, then Atua will forgive you, and embrace you into his arms. As will all his followers._

_More importantly, Security will make no arrests based on it, or do anything else about it whatsoever. There will be no legal consequences from what passes for the ‘authorities’.”_

_“Or else,”_ Himiko intoned nasally. _“You all saw how much of a frog Gonta was. That could be you. All I need to do is say the magical incantation, ‘astaer aeseli-”_

_“Weeee get the idea, Himiko! Thank you! Ahem._

_So! This is going out all over the island. Angie wants anybody who wishes to be absolved, and come forward, and stand together, to gather on the Central Island._

_Anybody who wants to enjoy what's going to be one heck of a show can come there too!_

_For all those who cannot attend, then please, keep tuning in. Mahiru has declined my generous invitation to film the event, but we’ll be getting somebody to hold that danged camera soon enough._

_For those who are curious, we already have our very first volunteer lined up._

_Maki Harukawa has emerged from her Lab like an avenging angel, and saved one of my followers. It’s only natural she should get the right to speak first~_

_So stay tuned to this channel, listeners._

_In just a few minutes, we’re going to upend this terrible fate together, and sing Atua’s praises while we’re at it! Afterwards, of course, we’ll move on to the fundraiser and blood sacrifice.”_

“Amazing,” Hajime sighed. “She’s found a way to cause more damage than Monokuma. Pretty mean feat, the little cult leader.”

“You’d better get out there,” Chiaki huffed.

“Huh? But, Chiaki, you…”

“Whatever happens, I’ll be fine in here. Thank you for coming, Hajime.” She reached out, and with Miu Iruma’s body, pulled Hajime into a gentle embrace.

She was so warm.

This was so obviously not the same form Chiaki had before, yet… Hajime could still feel her warm presence. Hajime hugged her back, burying his face into her shoulder.

“While this might be a good theory, people won’t part with secrets so lightly. In fact, some people have secrets… that they can’t part with. That they aren’t allowed to. This plan doesn’t take that into account, so it might be dangerous. I think.”

It didn’t last long before Chiaki had to break away. She seemed uncomfortable using another person’s body for this kind of thing, understandably so. Still, considering her reaction the last time things got touchy-feely, it was a big gesture.

“Come on. This indecisive Hajime isn't the cool guy I fell in love with! Show me how manly you can be.”

That was also the Chiaki equivalent of a Patton speech, so there was nothing for it.

Hajime had no clue what he was going to do, or how he was going to talk Angie out of this scheme.

He just ran for the Central Island, as fast as his spindly legs would carry him.

_Glad I did all that working out, sheesh._

Not that going there was some unique idea. Anybody who wasn’t otherwise tied up was there.

When Hajime arrived, somebody else was already confronting Angie in front of a crowd of gathered onlookers.

Gundham, backed up by Kyouko and Sakura.

Who, Hajime realized with dawning horror, were all the Security that Gundham could find to help.

Everyone else was on Angie’s side, had wandered off, was sick, or in Taka’s case, was still getting off the flu, but had to man the quarantine line.

Because there was nobody else.

The Ultimates felt like such a united and powerful force, just a week ago. This disease, and Monokuma’s arrival, had brought what passed for civilization on the island to its nadir. So many people were still hospitalized, for injuries or sickness. Everyone was now being expected to rely on a chuuni, backed up by a fighting game character and a robot detective.

In any other situation, Sakura alone would have been enough to get the point across, and disperse this mob.

If Himiko wasn’t staring up at her with a contemptuous expression.

“Angie must be allowed to do this, so we can stop Monokuma,” Himiko said, with an above-average level of determination for her. “So you three, keep away. Unless you want to go to Frog City.”

“How, precisely, are you planning to vanquish that fell beast?” Gundham asked, back to his full self a hundred percent.

_Lucky us._

“Weren’t you listening?” Angie squished her cheeks in shock at the idea that anybody would be hanging on her every word. “We’re going to disarm this motive-bomb at the eleventh hour! And rob Monokuma of the terrible power he has over us. The power of those secrets!”

“By giving the creature exactly what it wants. That’s how you’re going to send it back into the howling dark, from whence it came.”

“You don’t get it at all.” Angie shook her head. “Too bad, so sad. If this is all the Council can do, it’s no wonder they couldn’t see these terrible attacks coming~”

“You can’t possibly blame them for not foreseeing this,” Kyouko said. “I was part of one of those ‘attacks’. Don’t speak for me, or any of the other victims. Who are still centimeters from death.”

Like her girlfriend, and one of her close detective buddies.

Or Hajime’s boyfriend.

Mikan was the only able-bodied Black Hat absent, on account of her being hip-deep in blood, trying to save lives.

In fact, it was more useful to say the only member of the core group who was present was Tenko.

“Atua says that they knew about the killers beforehand! Especially Genocider Syo, but they tried to keep it quiet and make some fancy-pants plan. Which predictably fell apart, and landed our friends and loved ones in the hospital! Their hubris nearly took them from us altogether!”

Absurd.

Hajime couldn’t believe a word this supposed ‘prophet’ was spewing anymore. She was just trying to seize control, nakedly. Come to think of it, that was probably going to be her first order when she took over.

“Aaaaanyway, Monokuma’s gonna do it anyhow. But having our secrets revealed by the crazy bear, and doing it ourselves, on our own terms, is a world apart.”

“You keep saying ‘on our own terms’,” Hajime spoke up as well. “What difference does it make?”

“Oh, hello there, Hajime. Angie hopes your fluffy boyfriend is doing well.”

“He’s still hanging on,” Hajime said. “Like the rest of them. Answer my question, please.”

“So forceful~ So driven~ Ahem. The entire reason Monokuma is doing this is to make us fight, hate, and kill each other. Nothing has changed about him, except his methods. Since Usami can’t protect us, and neither can the Council, than the Ultimates need to come together to stop it. If we talk about our secrets openly, then they’ll have no power over us. We won’t need to fear retribution for past sins. Sins committed in the old world.” She waved her hands over the thin gathering. “This is our new world! Atua’s world. A place of new beginnings. Maybe that’s why Usami took some of our memories, anyhow.”

_Bwoing!_

Monokuma arrived, bouncing up from the same ‘literally wherever’ that Usami always emerged from. It was never clear how they did that, but there was also literal magic spells in place. Ah well.

The monochrome bear was steaming mad. Literally, he had steam coming out his stuffed ears. “What are you doing, you freak?!”

“Foiling your evil plan?”

“And didja think I was just gonna sit by and let that happen?!”

Angie pointed towards Himiko. “Yup!”

“Y-You! You know my powers are far greater than some loli wannabe-mage, right?!”

Himiko demolished Monokuma with a fireball.

The explosion and blast of fire was loud and stupendous, and nearly knocked Hajime on his ass.

In the several seconds it took for a new Monokuma to arrive, there was significant laughter from the crowd.

Monokuma was not amused. “I’m serious, Atua-damnit! If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, it’s fanatics. And people who ruin my plans! Uh, not that I want you guys to actually kill each other. L-Like I said, this is just so you get to know each other better.”

“In which case, it’s even better if we do it ourselves,” Ryoma rumbled from the stands, chewing on a candy cigarette. “Come on, Monokuma. Give it up. You immediately started making trouble as soon as you came to live with us. Like a bad roommate.”

“ _Grrr_ ….”

Monokuma took out his claws, but Usami arrived, Magic Stick in hand.

The same Magic Stick that had been used to obliterate Monokuma and the Monosals on Day One.

“Where the hell have you been?” Leon glowered at the white stuffed rabbit. Instead of launching into a comical, bumbling routine of excuses and evasion, though, Usami didn’t even reply. “... Usami? Uh…?”

“C’mon,” Monokuma groaned. “You must want to put a stop to this too, right?”

Usami said, “It’s not for either of us to directly interfere. You’ve already done more than enough, come on.”

The options were to start the endless war again, or fuck off.

Monokuma left, and Usami didn’t stick around to be questioned.

_She’s not even pretending to listen to us anymore. She just enforces what few rules she’s set up. Except for when she just doesn’t._

_She really is reigning like a capricious god._

Hajime didn’t think it was possible to dislike Usami more than he already did. Her failure to act during the violent incidents, though, took the cake.

There were only three options. Either Usami didn’t notice people literally dying, she didn’t have the power to stop a rogue anthropologist… or she just didn’t fucking care.

Even what Monokuma said before, about her having ‘bigger fish to fry’, amounted to the same thing.

Whether or not some of them lived or died clearly didn’t concern her too badly.

_Usami, one day, you’re going to regret taking us all so lightly. Hopefully, I’ll be there to see it._

“Let us draw the curtain on this spectacular show! The Truth and Reconciliation! How well do you really know your friends? It’s time for long-buried secrets to come to light!” Angie introduced this solemn half-gathering like it was a magic show or something, her light and breezy tone entirely inappropriate.

“Before our first volunteer, I must ensure the most critical secrets, the ones that have driven our friends to bloodshed, are brought to light. Since they’ve already gotten Monokuma what he wanted, he should be okay with it, right?~ The rest will be freely given, but these, well. In a way, they were revealed voluntarily, too!”

Angie cleared her throat.

“ **Korekiyo Shinguji and Touko Fukawa are both serial killers.** They very nearly succeeded in killing our beloved friends, and adding to their kill counts. In Kiyo’s case, he went after my own followers.”

Angie’s voice lost all of its mirth in an instant.

“Touko, also known more famously as Genocider Syo, has surrendered to our custody, and is in the Brig even now. While Kiyo, well.” Angie shook her head. “He’s lucky to be alive himself, undergoing treatment in Heavy Containment.”

The group had been rocked to its core by these incidents.

Hajime himself, even from having them mentioned, tensed up.

“Have no doubts, everyone. These are the stakes. Both of these incidents were directly triggered by Monokuma’s mad motive. That’s why we’re here. It may seem unrealistic for people to willingly give up their secrets, to bare it all for others. Yet, it’s because this matter is so critical, that our volunteers have stepped forward.”

It was like Angie flipped a switch. “So! Let’s begin! First up, the hero who saved my followers from a grisly fate. Maki Harukawa! Big hand, everyone. Big hand!”

There was actually clapping, and not just from her obedient cultists.

_Well, without Maki, help would never have gotten there in time._

_Sayaka and Chihiro would be dead._

Maki stepped forward. Angie put a microphone in her face. The black-haired slip of a girl didn't look thrilled with that. In fact, she wasn’t happy to be out among everyone. It was odd to see her, after she spent so much time holed up.

Yet, she’d volunteered to go first.

“When Byakuya questioned everyone that first day, I told him I couldn’t remember my Ultimate talent. I said that to everyone who asked, and I hung out with Kyouko, Hajime, and Rantaro under those grounds. However, that was all a lie.

I’ve never forgotten my talent. I always knew who I am. Or more accurately, what I am.

I was always afraid of what would happen if it got out. Especially with all the talk of traitors, it’s obvious what would happen to me. I couldn’t trust anyone. I shut you all out. However, a stubborn idiot refused to give up on me.

From my lab nearby, I noticed Kiyo’s plan unfolding. I had to do something. Even if it meant revealing to the world that **I’m the Ultimate Assassin.**

I’m a weapon with only one purpose.

I’m really good at killing people, and I’ve been doing it all my life.

Consider what happened as me paying that idiot back. Which means we’re square.

I don’t want to kill anybody. I’m not working for Monokuma, or the Hunt, or anybody. If I was, I had a month to do anything. I just want to live a quiet life, as far away from you all as possible. Stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you.

Don’t mess with me, unless you wanna die.”

In the stunned silence that followed, even Kokichi couldn’t say a single word.

When she went to take a seat at the far edge of the crowd, people parted for her like the Red Sea.

Hajime looked away when her intense, burning red eyes swept over to him.

That girl he counted among his friends was… the Ultimate Assassin.

It was impossible, but about the seventh impossible thing today alone.

Nobody expected Mondo to take the stage next, either.

After all the shocks so far today, everyone was growing numb. Or at least, learning to expect the unexpected.

“Yo.

I… can’t believe I’m doin’ this. This is nuts. I’d give anything for Monokuma to just fuckin’ stop, I’d even… nevermind. You’re all gonna find out anyhow. If Mukuro can’t make him stay dead, ain’t nothing I could do to stop the bastard. Better to get it straight from the horse’s mouth, right?”

Mondo rubbed the back of his head. This pensive, penitent Mondo was a new sight on the island. Very few people had seen him like that.

“I’m the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, and the Crazy Diamonds is… was… my gang. I don’t know if they’re still around, but… No. I know they’re still out there. If the Hunt did go after them, they’d get their asses kicked every damn time! See this white jacket I got here? This is stylized off the real gang’s uniform.

Real _thoughtful_ , Usami. You’re a _gem_.

My buddy Chihiro was wearin’ this jacket when that shit went down! Hence the blood. It ain’t even all dried yet. I was in there, for a bit. Cryin’ like a goddamn woman, heh.

While I was there, Chihiro told me… somethin. In fact, I got this jacket, and… Well, since Chihiro can’t be here, I’ve gotta make the announcement myself. It’s what’s right. I made a man’s promise. I’m the big brother here.

And if I’ve gotta do that, then keeping quiet about my own shit would just be too much. I’d never forgive myself.

You look at Chihiro, and you look at me. And you think ‘Mondo’s strong, and Chihiro’s weak’. That’s what I wanted to think. Honestly, that’s part of why we became friends. Being around Chihiro helped reassure me that I was strong. Because I was around a damn weakling who couldn’t kill a fly. It’s shameful, but there it is.

Truth is, though, it’s the other way round.

Chihiro’s the one who’s strong, and I’m weak.

Always been that way.

I’ve always been weak.

Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak.

First off, you bastards. Get one thing straight! **Chihiro Fujisaki is a dude!** _He_ wanted me to tell you that. It was the only thing on _his_ mind before he went under all those heavy-duty painkillers.

If _he_ don’t make it through the night, then that’s _his_ final wish. To shake off the lies, and be known throughout our group for the _man_ he really is.

Least we can do.

Yeah, I can’t really believe it, either. But hey.

Every day’s a fuckin’ school day.

So for my own? The reason I’m standing up here for myself?

**I killed my big brother, Daiya. That’s how I became the leader of my gang.**

That’s all.”

The uproar after an announcement like that was significant. However people clamored for answers, Mondo remained tight-lipped. He didn’t want to elaborate.

“Maybe he just doesn’t think the context will help, or help excuse him,” Rantaro opined beside Hajime. “Or maybe it’s still too painful to talk about.” His eyes were shadowed. “If I’d done that kind of thing to any of my sisters, I don’t think the context would matter one good goddamn. That’s the kind of sin that dogs you until the day you die, Hajime.”

“Yeah.” Hajime nodded solemnly. “Some things, and people, are unforgivable. When it goes so far beyond that there’s no looking back. Like mass murderers and stuff. But is that really Mondo?”  
  
It wasn’t like the idea of a criminal killing somebody, even family, for power, was… surprising.

It was just that out of Mondo, somebody who’d gained growing respect, especially for how he was handling himself during these crises, it was like he’d pulled the rug out from beneath everybody.

Both of his announcements redefined what everybody thought they knew.

Like all of the speakers at the Truth and Reconciliation this evening, it just made clear that nothing was the same anymore.

Those were tough acts to follow.

Ibuki just popped up and went for it.

“H-Hey, everybody. A-Are you all fired up for….

Aw. That’s not the right tone.

Sheesh. I get up in front of crowds ten billion times bigger than this, like, nightly.

So why is Ibuki getting so worried?!

Grrr. If everybody else is gonna do this, then Ibuki’s got to do it, too! Monokuma, you’re not my real dad!

I guess stupid jokes aren’t the right vibe, either. But sorry, it’s all Ibuki’s got. So, instead of a big speech, uh. Here. **Have a look.** ”

Ibuki removed those sleeves she wore over her forearms, and Hajime saw, to his horror, why she always wore them.

The skin that she normally kept covered was a wasteland of scar tissue.

Straight cuts going in even, neat rows all the way down. On both arms.

_Oh god._

Hajime couldn’t tell for sure at this distance, but some of those looked pretty fresh.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. That’s all Ibuki’s got. It doesn’t compare to everything else that’s happened tonight, but hopefully it explains where I’ve been lately! Yeeeaah.”

When Ibuki stepped down from the stage, Tenko was there, fluffing into her with significant impact force. Despite worried hugs, that were at risk of smothering the poor, lucky, very bi girl, there was little to be done.

Aside from the group closing ranks around her and making it clear they weren’t going to judge her for something like that.

Hajime made damn sure he was there, too.

It wasn’t just that they were classmates. Ibuki was important to him.

_Ibuki, you helped me through some rough times._

_It’s not just me, either. You’re another person we’ve taken for granted. Nobody could have possibly thought you were doing this below those sleeves._

_That’s why we didn’t see what was going on, that’s why we didn’t help._

_Today’s the day we change things. We’re not just going to let this be a terrible day. Or at least, we’re going to use that tragedy._

_Nagito would say something like that if he was out here, right?_

Most of the people who could come to the gathering, even if it was just a fraction of their group, made it clear that Ibuki was valuable to them, too. The reaction was quite different from the shocked distance people were giving to Mondo and Maki. They perched on edges of the gathering in chairs, surrounded by a gulf of mystery and fear alike that repelled everyone.

Even Hajime, of course.

Especially after the events that had just unfolded, anybody willing to come out and admit they were a killer, well. It was natural for them to be given maximum suspicion.

Even though Ryoma never denied it, he was sitting on the edge of the group, too. Hajime couldn’t deny he was looking at the little tennis player in an entirely different light.

_Is human life really so cheap? Out there in the world, or on this island?_

Kyouko herself took the stage.

Everyone had to wonder what a girl so secretive really had going on. Even Hajime was on the edge of his seat.

“I opposed this meeting. However, if we’re doing this, then I have something to say… on behalf of the others. I’m not just here for myself. Sayaka, Shuichi, and Makoto have all entrusted me with their darkest secrets.” Kyouko cast a level, cold-eyed gaze around the gathering. All murmurs and whispers went silent, and everyone listened closely. “I’m going to take this in the order of severity. First, and least significant.

 **Makoto Naegi wet the bed until fifth grade.** ”

Despite all that had come before, or maybe because the atmosphere was so tense, oppressive, and emotionally-charged, there were laughs.

Even Hajime found himself laughing, in spite of his own nerves.

Of course that was Makoto’s secret.

In a way, it was comforting to know that he hadn’t been hiding anything deeper. If this was truly his ‘worst’, then that just confirmed what everyone suspected about him. Namely, that he was a good man through and through.

They needed more of that lately. A person who just was good.

Bit of a keet, but apparently that came with the ahoge-territory.

“ **Shuichi kissed a boy. In spite of being Kaede’s boyfriend.** ”

Good thing Kaede was absent.

She’d declined to even attend, much less throw her musical hairpins in the ring for everyone to see.

Hajime could only imagine her reaction.

Kyouko offered no justification. She didn’t point out how overworked Shuichi was. Or how now, his life hung by a thread, nearly snipped by a psychotic murderer. Or how Kaede had, in fact, gone nuts lately. She didn’t say any of those things, because, as Rantaro suggested earlier, those might have seemed like reasons or causes, but they were ultimately just excuses.

After what happened, Hajime personally, and most of the others, couldn’t give less of a shit, but it was out there now.

“Next. I have two. Just in case.”

Kyouko bit down on the edge of one of her dark purple gloves, and pulled it off.

Revealing… another glove?

No.

Her hand was blackened, like it had a layer of soot on it. No, it wasn’t that, either. As Kyouko removed the other glove, Hajime could make out what was really going on. It wasn’t ‘a bunch of scars’, it was more like burn scarring covered them entirely.

It looked like her skin simply died all around both her hands, which was apparently what happened. The blackened husks went far beyond a disfiguring scar, and into making her appear, somehow… a little less than human.

Not in Hajime’s eyes, but in something deep and primal in the back of his brain.

“ **My hands have been like this for a long time.** Scarred monstrously. So badly burned, they’ll never recover. I haven’t taken off my gloves in the presence of anyone, not even the people I’m now in a relationship with. These gloves are comfortable, and even waterproof. I can take them into the shower, even. And regularly did.

The reason I kept these hands hidden is because they are a monument to my greatest failure as a detective.”

She paused, and looked down at her boots.

“My second greatest failure. I’ll tell you my worst mistake. It culminated tonight in the incident where my friends, and I, nearly died. **I’m, in some ways, directly responsible for what happened in Touko Fukawa’s basement.** ”

Hajime gawked.

“Angie is right. About this one thing, and little else.

Pride. A mortal sin, and one I’ve always had with me. The thing about being smart and clever is that it’s easy to become vain. To believe in yourself too much. To believe you can control every variable, predict every data point.

Even though I’m an Ultimate Detective, I couldn’t control the situation.

I kept secrets from everyone, for the sake of trying to stop the traitors. Or maybe I was just afraid of revealing the truth, of what would happen. That was clearly pointless. Whatever my reasons, I could have told you all. I could have told Shuichi, before we went in there as a team. I didn’t.

The only reason I don’t have somebody’s death on my conscience, either the perpetrator or her victims, was down to sheer luck. Luck that brought help to us in the nick of time.”

If that was, indeed, just luck. Instead of… what Angie suggested it was.

“And luck that Genocider Syo wanted to survive more than she needed to kill.

So you see, my secrets are linked. They come back to my failing as a person, and as a detective. Now that people have gotten harmed because of it, I… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

That sure sounded like the end of her presentation, but Hajime remembered she hadn’t mentioned Sayaka yet.

_What could possibly follow that?_

It was the question of the evening.

“Finally. **Sayaka Maizono’s manager abused her. Physically, mentally… and in various other ways.** I will not go into any of the details. Sayaka is, as we speak, being prepared for surgery to remove the bullet from her abdomen. As the anesthetic was taking effect in her, though, she insisted. She said she wouldn’t forgive me unless I told you all.

I’m still not sure if it was right to say it, but Sayaka was never one to back down.

She worked hard for her dream. Harder than anyone around her. She endured so much that you, and I, can never understand. That’s over now. Her old life is over. However, if there was one thing Monokuma wanted to announce to try and break her, it would certainly have to be that.”

Kyouko addressed her next remark explicitly to Monokuma, as he’d appeared again on the edge of the crowd, watching silently. “We’re not afraid. We’re not stupid. And you’ve lost.”

Monokuma’s reply was simple. “We’ll see.”

Hajime was going to be sick.

_That happened to Sayaka, and we had no clue. We had no clue about any of this._

_We didn’t know a damn thing about the people we saw every day._

_This is supposed to be bringing us together, but how could that possibly be?_

_How could anybody trust each other after tonight?_

_What else is still out there?_

“There’s prooobably more secrets out there, considering how many people did not attend,” Angie said. “Most of the island is listening via radio or PA system, after all. Given the short notice, however, we sure got some of the big ones out there. Sorry, Monokuma~ You can’t manipulate the Ultimates so easily.”

“No, because _you’re_ too busy leading them along!” Monokuma was, in fact, furious. Not that Hajime cared what that fucking bear pretended to feel. “Do you think this changes anything?”

“Everything’s changed,” Angie replied calmly, clasping her hands in prayer.

“.... Nnngh. That’s it! I was gonna roll on ahead, just like I promised. I’m a bear of my word, after all. But you know what? Screw it. Screw you.”

“Only followers may earn that right~”

“You’re right, I got what I wanted already. Thrills, chills, kills! Nearly, anyhow. And the night is young indeed. You think this helps you out?! You think you’ve won?! I’m gonna turn this cloying display of ‘unity’ right around into juicy, juicy despair and doubt.”

“Oh yeah?” Ryoma said. “How’s that? Gonna throw out your toys from the playpen and start the war back up again?”

“No way! That _would_ be admitting defeat! My plan is way more simple, you bastards! Story time is off! Naughty kids like you don’t deserve it!

My announcement, of everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets, is suspended indefinitely!”

Monokuma left, leaving yet another stunned silence.

“Well, shit, that was easy. No fun!” Kokichi protested. “That was seriously all we had to do?”

Stunned mostly-silence.

Kokichi had been under permanent watch by Sakura herself, which was what kept him from heckling people during the height of their emotional reveals. Hajime wished Sakura would shut him up, even now, but hey.

“We… win?” Himiko blinked. “Yay?”

“Sure looks that way.” Leon rubbed his red chin thing that passed for facial hair.

Angie clapped in delight. “Another glorious victory for Atua! Just as predicted! Now, everyone. Let’s give thanks for this reversal to the one, true god. Please pray together to Atua to thank him for the mercy he has shown us. After that, it’ll be time for those who want to convert to step forward. We’ve prepared refreshments, even!”

Hajime couldn’t stand to stick around for that, unity or no.

A worryingly large number of people did stick around, though, and they watched Hajime go in surprise.

“Thanks for dropping by,” Angie called after him, like there wasn’t a care left in the world.

When Hajime could most certainly say there was still things to worry about.

“Don’t drink the kool-aid! She’s probably drugged it!” Hajime shouted over his shoulder.

Monokuma wasn’t beaten.

Not fully.

He’d just implemented his own countermeasure. The next move.

As he explained, when he finally got back to Miu’s room and sat down next to Chiaki-Miu, “He’s realized that announcing our secrets is pointless, now.”

“So instead,” Chiaki tapped her cheek with a cute pout, “He’s gonna leave it wide open. If he doesn’t confirm what was said, or speak for the people who weren’t there, that will leave the door wide open for doubt.”

Hajime nodded. “Sure seems like that, to me. Angie said this was everyone’s worst secrets. How can we verify that? Especially with what people did come right out and say? It’s human nature to wonder if there’s something even worse lurking just beneath the water.”

“That Monokuma.” Chiaki sighed, looking aside. “It’s a petty move, but it may work. Like I said before, it’s likely some of us were actually holding back.”

At the time, Hajime was too exhausted, too beaten-down, to notice the signs.

He was out of gas, and just wanted to be with Chiaki tonight and damn the world.

“Almost certain, more like.” He leaned back. “Even so, it feels like this is a desperation move. I can’t deny, it was surprising to see him throw a tantrum and stomp off in a huff.”

“Before, it was likely that more incidents were going to happen,” Chiaki said. “Now, at least for the moment, nothing else is gonna happen. Not tonight. Not without any more secrets coming to light. The ones that did were given freely, so they can’t be a ‘motive’.”

“We can at least be grateful for that,” Hajime nodded. “And…” He reached out, and grabbed her hand. Miu’s hand. Whatever. It was Chiaki in there. He was ever more certain of it. He needed that to be true. He needed to believe in that, in her. “We could use a break. Today’s just had way too much going on.”

Just like Day One.

By the end of the battle, everyone was exhausted. Tired to the bone, worn out, mentally and physically. Ready for it to just be over.

It felt like Hajime was way more spent than that day. Even though he’d done a lot of running and a lot of worrying in both cases.

Back then, he hadn’t realized what was at stake.

None of them knew each other. Or, they’d had their minds messed with to make them feel that way.

In even just one month, shoved into this strange situation, living together, the Ultimates formed a community.

One that had been tested. In fire, and in blood.

As it turned out, they passed the test.

Barely.

Even at their weakest, lowest point, they’d found a way through. They found a way to survive, to endure, to help each other. To support each other, and lock shields against a common foe. In spite of their guardian being absent, and leaving them to fend for themselves, fend they did.

Day Thirty-Seven would live in infamy for all that had happened.

Yet, it would also be remembered, as the day Despair was dealt a heavy blow.

A day where the Ultimates finally pulled it together.

Hajime wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same room as an infectee. His system was still weak, after all. He got every second he could in, before finally heading off to rest in the lobby, surrounded by other nominally-healthy people.

He had a spot on the floor covered with blankets, all staked out just for him.

Hajime slept like the dead.


	37. 2-15. Sing of a Hollow Victory (Hajime)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. We passed 400,000 words on the Voyage as a whole with the last update, and this just pushes us further ahead. All in a single year, since we started in January. We're coming up on the one year anniversary of the story!
> 
> I want to do some Vignettes next I think, or something. Regardless, I hope you enjoy. Thank you for all the absolutely wonderful support. You all keep me going.

_Where there’s life, there’s threat._

_The Ultimates ran and hid. They even shed their talents. But they couldn’t escape the Hunt in the end._

_The Hunters didn’t want them dead. Or at least, they had a better way to put an end to the Ultimates. A way everybody would be invited to watch. The Ultimate Killing Game was broadcast worldwide._

_It was an invitation to try and stop them._

_But the location of the sealed complex, a mock-up mockery built to emulate Hope’s Peak, was well-hidden._

_The followers of Ultimate Despair who brought supplies and worked maintenance were executed every three days. Nobody who had knowledge of the facility could suddenly grow a conscience, and defect to the Future Foundation._

_Who were desperately searching for their little lost lambs, even as they saw them everyday._

_Everybody saw them greet each other like they’d never met before._

_Everybody saw them form bonds and attachments, friendships, maybe more._

_Everybody saw them pushed to the brink of madness by Monokuma’s motives._

_Yet, in the end, they didn’t break._

_They bid defiance to Ultimate Despair. The triumvirate of mysterious, unknown figures who ran the war that ripped the world apart. As punishment for their hopeful resistance, two of the Ultimates were executed, in turn._

_Yet the rest didn’t break._

_The Ultimates were the world’s hope. They held onto that hope. They became hope, led by a seemingly ordinary man who rallied them together._

_Somebody who you could truly call the Ultimate Hope._

_Until…_

_Obviously, until they were rescued._

_Right?_

_They were alive now so, it had to be that..._

A _**sharp pain in his goddamn ribs**_ finally brought Hajime back to the land of the living.

He sputtered in pained surprise, curling up instinctively. Agony shot through his midsection.

What the _**hell** _ was-

“I told you to _get up_ , dumbass!”

That childish voice full of wrath was unmistakable.

“.... H-Hiyoko?!”

Hajime opened his eyes, and found the Ultimate Traditional Dancer in her orange kimono looming over him. Her honey-golden eyes were blurred with tears. One of her legs had emerged from the kimono, tipped by the wooden sandal that had just delivered a strong kick.

To him!

“What are you…”

**“Wake! Up!”**

Under threat of further violence, Hajime found a way to rouse himself. Emerging from a nest of comfortable, warm, safe blankets into the cold world of night.

When he looked around the lobby, he saw a waiting room that had been adapted into a bunkhouse. Chairs were set aside. Sleeping bags, blankets, and pillow forts dominated the middle, piled together in clusters like this was a disaster shelter. It basically had been for a week.

Hajime had been glad to trade a hospital bed for blankets on the floor, if it meant he was no longer sick. If he no longer had to share a room with a miserably-suffering Kokichi.

Yet when Hajime looked around, he didn’t see anyone else.

The room was empty, and all the larger and more ominous for it.

Just Hajime being harassed by an entitled brat, and unexplained empty space.

The light strips running the length of the room were off. The only light that filtered in from the high windows was beams of moonlight peeking through the omnipresent gloomy clouds. Yet, he could obviously tell nobody was around.

Hajime glanced at his Hope Pad.

0416.

Four-sixteen AM.

Hours before daybreak.

Hours after he’d collapsed in a heap on his blankets and somebody had kindly covered him up.

_Where is everybody?_

“Hiyoko, what’s… what’s wrong?”

Hiyoko was still crying. Tears poured down her face, which was ruddy red. She rubbed at the tears with one of her too-long sleeves, but that just made the redness in her face worse. She sniffled.

“I… couldn’t find anybody else… H-Hajime. You’re still my slave, right?”

“No. Hiyoko, I’m absolutely beat-”

‘You’ll be _beat_ if you don’t get a move on! Mahiru’s in danger, idiot!”

Hajime stared up at her. “Mahiru?!”

“T-There’s no more time to look for anyone. If we don’t hurry, Mahiru… she’s gonna die! I just know it!”

Hajime should have, in hindsight, asked questions. Or investigated the strange situation.

Flashes of memory, of watching stretchers loaded with his friends roll past, blinded him with panic.

He was on his feet in seconds. “Lead the way.”

“Come on, Rantaro went ahead to check it out. I’ll take you to him!”

_We thought it was over, but there’s been another incident, huh?_

_If nobody else is around, then it’s up to me. I’m not going to let it happen again._

That was the kind of guy Hajime wanted to be. The kind of guy Chiaki and Nagito had, somehow, fallen in love with. The kind of guy who took action, who moved forward towards the future. If there was a mystery to unravel, he was on that shit. If somebody needed help, he’d do whatever he possibly could.

That was the sort of person Hajime thought deserved to be an Ultimate.

Rantaro, in other words.

In chasing that dream, though, Hajime scarcely realized the danger inherent in it. There was a reason people didn’t live like the adventurous avocado. Hajime had no way of knowing what he was getting swept up into.

No way to know that he’d disappear before the sun rose.

“S-She told Rantaro she was going to meet somebody and talk. Just talk. Alone. She made us both pinky-promise not to follow her,” Hiyoko huffed and puffed as they ran across the dark, smoldering ruins of paradise.

The place would have been quiet and peaceful.

Until an Exisal nearly ran them over, loaded with construction materials and wooden boards. They got out of the way of its massive metal footsteps just in time, and kept running towards Central Island.

“After what happened yesterday, of course you guys would,” Hajime said. Any other day, he’d have some snide remark about how nosy and insensitive Hiyoko was. Tonight? Or this morning, or whatever? It was the right move. “What makes you so sure… she’s in trouble, though?”

“Are you really asking me that question right now?!”

_Fair point._

Central Island was clearly not the meeting area. Hajime was still blinking away spots from his vision, from both sleep and pain, but he was pretty sure he’d see somebody in such a small, flat, level space.

Hiyoko said, “It’s Second Island! She’s meeting somebody in the ruins!”

_Those old ruins, huh._

_The ones that look just like HPA._

One of the only buildings left standing after the Siege.

In fact, it hadn’t been touched. Whether that was down to it being built like the jail, or whether it was just that Usami and Monokuma avoided the area like the plague and had never been seen there, even when summoned…

Either way, Hajime had a bad feeling about it.

The ruins were vast, but in the dead stillness of night, it wouldn’t be hard to hear people talking. All they had to do was be quiet. Hajime put a finger up to his lips. Hiyoko returned the gesture with a quiet raspberry.

Returning to the fake entrance hall was a blast from the past.

Hajime had been to all the places on the island. He was familiar with most of them like the back of his hand. Yet he’d rarely come here for any reason. Even just to hang out or explore it with friends. So many doors remained locked, and none had opened.

Usami, when questioned, said that was just how the structure was, and not to look too deeply into it. Considering how trustworthy Usami was, that meant the Ultimates had to find a way past those doors.

Today, though, it just meant that locked doors were places they didn’t need to search. The two of them moved forward, careful to limit their movement and avoid loud footfalls. They padded through the overgrown college, sparing only a few glances around at the wildly-grown vegetation.

Just like it had been. Right down to feeling abandoned, like nature was already reclaiming the place. Vines curled up the walls. Tall grass swayed in the artificial breeze of the air conditioning.

_Nagito… Sayaka… Shuichi… Kaede…_

The only person he’d woken up with in this building who wasn’t horribly maimed, or who’d gone mad, was Makoto.

He didn’t dwell on that realization, even as he crept towards what he knew was some kind of weird secret meeting.

There was no immediate sign that anybody had been through. Through the hallways they walked, up the first floor, and on through the second. Hallways, leading into classrooms without teachers. Lecture halls devoid of students, screens still flickering unnatural green. Empty supply closets. Windows were fogged or steamed up. Or just so dirty it was just impossible to see the bleak pre-dawn gloom outside.

Dust was visible in the air when the moonlight caught it just right. The little particles danced about. Hajime had to avoid coughing a few times.

_The first time I met you, Hiyoko, you scared me with that knife and the rabbit. And the creepy smile. Now, we’re both wondering what the hell we’re gonna find, with bated breaths._

It wasn’t imaginary monsters lurking in the darkness that frightened him. Hajime had seen what the people they shared this island with could do. He knew all too well about the real dangers waiting ahead. At least, he suspected. He wanted to send Hiyoko back for more help, but until he knew for sure this was more than a secret rendezvous with a friend or something, he didn’t want to raise the alarm.

Finally, they caught up with Rantaro on the third floor.

He was at a set of double doors that were just slightly ajar. Allowing distant, muffled voices from down the hall.

Rantaro put a finger to his lips. Hajime suddenly knew how Hiyoko felt. Rantaro also had an expression on his fashion-model face that Hajime could only summarize as _‘What? This is it?’_

_Apparently so, buddy. We’ll find the others once we make sure everything’s okay._

Wishful thinking.

Nothing was okay anymore.

Past the doors came voices, clearer now.

_“Quit stalling! Just tell me whether it’s the truth. Whether you remember, too.”_

That aggressive tone, the pent-up rage. The youthful voice to go along with it. Hajime couldn’t see the babyfaced gangster, but Fuyuhiko was there.

_“I can’t say whether we remember the same things. Or even if anything we remember is actually true.”_

That was certainly Mahiru. In fact, Hajime could see, through the crack in the door, just a flash of her red bob of hair in the darkness ahead.

_“Hey. About… what happened, Fuyuhiko. Let’s just talk about it instead of standing here. Your little sister…”_

_“I knew it. Ah shit. You really do remember, too.”_

_“Do you think that’s our symptom?”_

_“Despair Disease, huh? I thought I didn’t have it. I ain’t been sick. But it’s gotta be that. Monokuma gave us back our memories…. No. None of shit matters. Not now. Not that I know you know, and you been keepin’ it from me. The only thing I wanna hear from you is why.”_

_“Do you mean ‘why did you help her cover it up’? Or ‘why did I kill her’?”_

_“The_ fuck _did you just say?!”_

The three eavesdroppers did their best to stick to the double doors without pushing them open. After what Mahiru said, they exchanged looks.

_That confirms it. Whatever they’re talking about, it’s not gonna be good times._

“Hiyoko,” Rantaro whispered. “Go back and get help. This time, somebody who can fight. Or a lot of them. Everybody, if you can.”

“B-But Hajime was the only person I could-”

“Go back and try again,” Rantaro insisted, trying to be quietly forceful and succeeding better than he had any right to.

Hiyoko looked exhausted and furious. She still crept back down the hallway, and over to the stairs. This left the two guys free to plan. Rantaro turned to Hajime.

“We need help, but I also didn’t want Hiyoko here, just in case. I don’t like how this is going, man. Be ready.”

“For what?”

“Just be ready to move.”

Hajime’s first impulse was to make fun of Rantaro, but that didn’t last long. Everything they were hearing on the other side of this door was bad, and spiraling out of control quick.

_“You had no right to kill that girl!”_

_“I… don’t want to talk about that! We’re talkin’ about the first murder, not her! The incident in the music room.”_

_“So you don’t even deny it?”_

_“She killed my sister! The fuck do you think?! What was I supposed to do?! Let her get away with doing that to my flesh and blood? Walk away scot-free?!”_

_“She was my friend! She was important to a lot of people.”_

_“So was my sister! You helped your friend cover all that shit up. I knew it! Just needed your dumb ass to confirm it, and here we are. How would the others react to hearing that their beloved Mahiru helped a murderer get away, huh? They’re already ready to write me off because I’m a criminal. You, though. You ain’t any better. So don’t get all high and mighty with me.”_

_“Fuyuhiko, please listen to me. What happened to your sister was terrible. Whatever my part in it, whatever happened back then, I’m sorry. You can tell them. The others can judge me however they want for my part in it.”_

_“Tch. Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now, you lying bitch-”_

_“But that still doesn’t excuse what you did, either.”_ Mahru’s voice was gentle, but full of unshakable conviction. _“Murder is murder. Murder for a ‘just cause’ is just as bad!”_

Fuyuhiko was stunned into silence. Or he’d stopped talking, and was considering doing something else?

While Mahiru was willing to sass him right to his face, and always demonstrated that willingness with contempt for his childish fury, Hajime wasn’t sure that was a safe way to treat the Ultimate Yakuza. It was true that Fuyuhiko was a lot of sound and fury. However, he had to be dangerous. Especially tonight. This morning. Whatever.

The temperature of the situation was escalating too fast.

_“What I’m saying, Fuyuhiko, is that we’ve got to tell the others together. We’ll tell them what we remembered, and they can decide what to do… with… w-what’s that?’_

_“Look familiar, bitch?”_

_“The bat…”_

_“It may not be the exact same, but I knew somethin’ from Leon’s lab should do the trick.”_

_“That’s why you called me out here?!”_

_“I was lookin’ for an excuse not to go through with it. Looking for some sign you aren’t just bullshitting me. But if you just admit it right to my fucking face, and tell me I’m the one who’s wrong? That’s worse. I can’t believe you can stand there, and… Fuck it.“_

_“Do you hate me that much?”_

_“Not even. I’m furious with you, but… that doesn’t matter. It’s just the Code. It’s what’s gotta happen. Don’t matter how I feel about it.”_

Rantaro shook his head. “Hajime, he’s gonna kill her.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Rantaro brushed some hair from his eyes. “Look, I’ve been in a few scrapes around the world. Including dealing with, let’s face it, criminal types. Fuyuhiko hasn’t been arguing with Mahiru. He’s been trying to psych himself up to do what he sees as ‘taking care of business’. We’ve heard way more than enough. Let’s push in the doors on three. Get in there, and even the odds.”

Three on one wasn't very heroic, but that _was_ the Ultimate Yakuza on the other side in there. Dumb heroics would just add to the body count.

_Oh, as opposed to this, a totally sane plan to bum-rush him._

Not like there was any choice. They couldn’t sit by and let it happen again. Not when they were so close. Hajime braced himself against those heavy double-doors. “Ready.”

_Even if he’s got a metal bat, if we can just pin the little twerp down until the cavalry gets here, we win._

“One… two…”

“Stay _right_ where you are.”

A steel katana gleamed in the faint moonlight, as it slid between the two men. The sharp edge of the bare steel was quite visible from up close.

Hajime looked over at the girl wielding the weapon.

“... Peko?!”

“Peko, what’s going on-”

“I told you both not to move.”

Hajime didn’t know why a member of Security was holding them up, when the real bad guy was the next room over. Hajime didn’t even know where the silver-haired Ultimate Swordswoman had come from.

He just knew that her red eyes gleamed with the same obvious menace as Maki’s, and that Peko’s sword was really sharp.

Her since she got her Ultimate Lab, she’d been packing the real thing.

Hajime and Rantaro both put their hands up, slowly, when she ordered it.

“And don’t try rushing me the way you were going to ambush him. Keep your heads, or loose them.” Peko reached out, tapping Hajime on the shoulder very lightly.

Making it clear how easy she’d find it to lop off somebody’s goddamn head.

Hajime’s heart raced. He couldn’t help himself, obviously. Facing other kinds of danger was a lot different than having somebody shove a weapon in your face. Everyone knew that Peko could be lethal when she was angry, even when she had a bamboo practice sword. If she was fully armed, that just made her so much more lethal.

“Peko, what’s… what’s going on?” Hajime asked.

“I thought we were cool after the spy incident,” Rantaro sighed.

While Hajime was reacting to this situation like a normal person, with abject fear and terror, Rantaro was, well. Much the same as he ever was. Like _having a sword pointed at him in the year 2026 wasn’t a big deal_.

It occurred to Hajime that Rantaro might have experienced this, too, in his travels across the world.

Peko’s eyes were always intense, but now, she had them focused on both of them like targeting lasers. Her grip was steady, her stance was poised. There was no sign of hesitation or weakness of any kind.

“This isn’t personal,” Peko assured them. Her voice bore that out, too. She sounded ice-cold and completely calm. Hajime was now fully awake with a shot of adrenaline, but he was still taken off-guard by how fast things were developing. “Now, go through the doors slowly, and sit down quietly with your hands behind your back.”

She had rope to tie their hands.

Thus, rescuers became hostages. Just like that.

Fuyuhiko was _not_ happy to see them. More than his usual.

“Hajime? Rantaro?! The _hell_ are you guys doing here?!”

“They were eavesdropping on your conversation, Young Master,” Peko informed him.

_Young Master?_

“Oh, were they.” Fuyuhiko held his shiny metal bat over a shoulder. He glanced over at Mahiru. “Looks like a set-up to me. Did you plan this out with them?”

“N-No! I swear, I came alone,” Mahiru insisted, sweating. “They don’t know anything! So you’d b-better watch what you say.”

Her chiding, motherly tone was difficult to keep up in the presence of armed thugs.

Hajime never expected to be on the pointy end of Peko’s wrath. Then again, he didn’t know these two worked together so closely. Or that Fuyuhiko really had any friends. Everyone on the island knew the two were closer than usual, but the leap from that to this…

Nobody could have seen it coming.

“Who else is with you?” Peko demanded. “Answer truthfully.”

Rantaro actually did. “Hiyoko’s gone to go get help. I don’t know how much longer you’ve got, Fuyuhiko, but it’s not long. If you put the bat down, we can help you.”

“There’s only one thing I need ‘help’ with right now,” The gangster shook his head, forlorn. “And this bat’s critical to that. Mahiru, whatever happens to us, I can’t let you walk away from this.”

“You’ve g-got to be kidding!”

Nothing about this situation looked like a joke to Hajime. These were criminals. Fuyuhiko especially was the head of a yakuza clan. He’d probably, personally, been involved in people dying before he was out of middle school. Much less now that his talent was great enough to get him recognized. Despite the controversy involved in Hope’s Peak accepting a yakuza right into their midst.

“Sato had a family too, you know!” Mahiru yelled, pointing in accusation.

“That’s the flaw in this whole ‘revenge’ thing,” Rantaro said. “You know what they say about revenge, Fuyuhiko? You’d best dig two graves.”

“Shit, man. You think I don’t know all about that?” Fuyuhiko scoffed. “I’ve been hip-deep in my blood my whole life. My parents try to kill each other for fun. This life… I was never really comfortable in it. My sister was a much better fit for the whole ‘Ultimate Yakuza’ thing, but Natsumi pushed me ahead of herself.” He sighed. “But the clan needs a leader. One that won’t hesitate like this. Peko, we should just get it over with, right?”

“The opinion of something like me isn’t worth considering at a time like this.”

Some _thing?_

Hajime spoke up. “Look, Fuyuhiko. I don’t know what’s going on. But whatever’s gone wrong, we can talk about this. Seriously. We have actual murderers in our group now. The only thing that’s going to make you an enemy of the Ultimates is if you go through with this.”

“Then that’s how it’s got to be. This is just a little life, anyhow.”

Mahiru shook her head. “That’s your answer, huh? Disappointing.”

Then, she took off running.

“Wait!” Fuyuhiko yelled when Peko stepped forward, sword drawn. “This hallway’s a dead end. She’s mine. Keep the Scooby Gang from interfering until it’s over. Then we’ll decide what to do with these morons. Some hostages might be handy.”

He stalked down the darkened hallway, bat ready.

Leaving just the three of them.

“I can’t let you guys do this,” Rantaro said, calm as ever. “You know that.”  
‘  
“You can’t do anything to stop my Young Master,” Peko said. “If I thought you were any threat, you’d already be dead. As you are, you’re powerless. There’s nothing more pathetic than the cries of the vanquished.”

“Peko, why are you helping Fuyuhiko? Why are you calling him that?” Hajime demanded. “This is nuts!”

“You just don’t know. There’s no point in explaining, either.”

Hajime said, “Rantaro, don’t…”

There was a scuffle ahead. A muffled tangle of voices and noises. Then, a flash of blue light bathed the hallway.

Mahiru had vanished in that light.

Tsumugi was there when it faded.

In the moment of pure astonishment that followed, Tsumugi disarmed Fuyuhiko, and nearly took his head off with a swing. He dodged backwards, and the same metal bat he’d been ready to murder a girl with passed right through empty air before his wide eyes.

Peko’s reaction was instantaneous.

She abandoned her charges, rushed forward with inhuman speed. Gleaming sword ready to strike. To defend her ‘young master’, and cut down the surprisingly-agile Cosplayer.

She was only stopped dead in her tracks by the barrel of an assault rifle poking around the final corner to the dead end.

The jet-black rifle wasn’t pointed at Peko herself.

Instead, it targeted Fuyuhiko.

Its wielder, Mukuro, took a step forwards, emerging from the murky shadows into the moonlight of a cracked window. Her black hair framed a face as cold and robotic as Peko’s, as she rested her head against the rifle and sighted in.

“Take another step, and he dies,” Mukuro said.

Hajime stared blankly.

He’d hit his upper limit for processing new and absurd things. Even as, through the same way they’d been brought, another two people joined this ever-escalating party of madness.

Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista. Who, last Hajime knew, was supposed to be kept in a straight-jacket, and heavily sedated, at all times. Because she had the Despair Disease, and was driven to murderous lunacy. She was just there.

With the real Mahiru in tow beside her.

“I told you guys to stay away,” Mahiru sighed, seeing Hajime and Rantaro tied up by the wall. The Ultimate Photographer stopped to snap a few shots with her DSLR camera, before kneeling down to untie them. “I guess not being able to leave well enough alone comes with the ahoge.”

“What the _fuck_ is this?!” Fuyuhiko demanded, face completely red. He was struggling for composure through a potent cocktail of surprise and blinding rage. “Junko?! How are you… what? **_What?!”_**

“That’s a pretty nice reaction,” Junko said. “Standard, totally expected, but still. Nice. Six out of ten, maybe? Totally makes this whole setup worth it. That, and stopping you from putting an end to a sexy freckled girl’s life.” She shrugged. “I have a thing for freckles, what can I say.”

Mahiru blushed.

“You seem a lot less insane,” Rantaro remarked as he got to his feet, rubbing his wrists. “In fact, you and your fashion gang just saved my girlfriend’s life.”

Mahiru blushed way harder at that.

“Yep, I got better,” Junko confirmed, flashing double peace signs with a broad grin.

_That’s it?_

_‘I got better?’_

_I tried to kill my own sister by_ stabbing her in the face _, but now I’m not anymore?_

Hajime looked back down the hallway, to see when the flying elephants would come.

Or perhaps a masked serial killer who only targeted other criminals.

Something else abjectly, absurdly insane.

This did seem to signal the end of the incident, though. Junko had wrapped up the criminals in a plan from the start. Tsumugi, impersonating Mahiru, strung them along. She got them to confess their sins with their own mouths. While Mukuro waited, loaded up for war, the ultimate failsafe. The real Mahiru recorded the whole thing on prepared hidden cameras.

There was actual proof to this case. That was a new and exciting twist.

Fuyuhiko chose this spot because it gave him an advantage, but Junko had predicted that perfectly. She set the place up to flip the advantage entirely to her.

How had she possibly done that? How did she see that coming?

Tsumugi adjusted her glasses. Moonlight glinted off them ominously as she smirked. A hundred costumes and articles of clothing danced behind her, or maybe that was just a trick of the light. “From the moment you decided to act, you were all caught in Junko’s web.”

Junko knew it, too. Somehow, this, more than anything else, displeased her? She sighed. “Oh man, Peko really did put down her sword. Welp, that’s it, then. Flawless victory. Bloodless, in fact. Just as I calculated, there was no margin of hope for you. Just the despair of failure and defeat. I wish I could taste that feeling...”

“Huh?” Tsumugi blinked. “Why do you sound so disappointed, Junko? Isn’t this great? We saved everyone.”

“It’s great,” Junko confirmed, suddenly morose. Were those mushrooms growing out of her head?! “But it’s like taking candy from a baby. Or a baby gangster, in this case.”

“Fucking… bitch!” Fuyuhiko roared out curses, insults, threats, but it was very clear all he could do was run his mouth. “I’ll kill you! I’ll rip you apart! Get over here and fight me!”

Considering Mukuro had him sighted in from ten meters or less, there was no possibility she’d miss.

The slightest provocation from either of them…

“Well, we can’t just put you down like wild animals,” Junko said. “I guess. The Council want your asses alive, just like Nagito and the other criminals. Mookie, cuff em and get them ready for when the others arrive.”

_Just like… Nagito?_

“Sis, shouldn’t somebody else…?” Mukuro said. “I’m kinda busy here.”

“I could do it!” Tsumugi chirped. “These two aren’t very intimidating when we’ve got them like this. And it might make me feel better about how scary that little cosplay-slash-roleplay session got-”

What did Junko mean by _that?_

“Nah. Mookie can do it.”

Junko’s word was law. Mukuro approached her prisoners rather than keeping safely out of arm’s reach. Hajime didn’t even notice what the inevitable result of that would be.

“J-Junko, what did you mean by ‘Nagito and the other-’”

Mukuro lowered her rifle to cuff Peko, by far the greater threat.

At that instant, the silver-haired bodyguard seized her one opportunity to fight. She smacked the assault weapon clean out of Mukuro’s right hand, sending it flying backwards. Given the weapon wasn’t safe, and was in fact loaded and ready to fire, this caused a pair of window-rattling gunshots in the confined space.

Somehow, the bullets managed not to bounce into anybody, but the sudden, deafening reports and flashes of light still sowed panic and confusion.

A perfect cover for Peko’s move. Except Mukuro was undaunted. She matched her opponent, and both moved at the same time. Quicker than the human eye could see, especially while Hajime was still turning in shock to face the situation.

In contrast to everyone else, both lethal women simply executed their moves.

Peko dove for her sword, and Mukuro drew her sidearm and flipped off the safety.

Peko was swinging her sword upwards by the time Mukuro was ready to fire.

That gun wasn’t just knocked aside. It was, with absolute precision and strength, sliced in half. Mukuro’s hand was nearly given the same treatment, but Hajime realized Peko hadn’t ‘missed’. She’d merely given priority to the lethal weapon, and now could use her follow-up to take Mukuro’s arm off or otherwise disable her.

However, Mukuro had drawn a big-ass combat knife with the other gloved hand. She had it ready to block that return swing.

Metal clashed with another deafening report that sounded like a gunshot in Hajime’s ringing ears.

Sparks flew from the force of the impact.

Knife and sword clattered as both women exerted endless force, pressing into each other. The Ultimate Soldier, with icy cold blue eyes, and the Ultimate Swordswoman, burning red with anger that made her own eyes seem to glow in the dark.

Nobody else could do a thing. They could only watch. Mostly in horror.

Junko cackled in glee, though. A crown appeared on her head somehow, and she said, “Oh dear, it seems one of the rebel swine is fighting against our royal guard. What an unexpected but thrilling development to thwart our plans at the last minute. Off with her head! Quickly, now!”

That weird-ass ‘royal decree’ wasn’t needed, though. There wasn’t any doubt, hesitation, or mercy in either woman.

They were both fighting not for their own lives, but for ones who had their lives. Who owned and possessed them completely. Their most important people. The ones who gave their existence meaning and definition.

Hajime didn’t know at the time what drove Peko. Why her loyalty to Fuyuhiko seemed absolute, right up until the threat of death and beyond. The others would find that out later.

Since he wouldn’t make it dawn, Hajime never found out.

All he could see was the obvious.

They were trying to kill each other with all of their might.

And had a lot of might to go around.

The sight was awe-inspiring. Junko cackled with pride in her sister, and delight at the contest. Rantaro watched, tense and silent, on the edge. Tsumugi sweated nervously as she ran over to Junko’s side and joined the others. Mahiru tried to take a photo, but it was tough.

They were just blurs to the spectators.

Ultimates in their prime.

Hajime couldn’t help but admit that from the perspective of a normal guy like him, they were barely human anymore. Frightening, awe-inspiring. More like warring titans than somebody like him.

He’d met with, talked with, and spent time hanging out with, both of these women. He’d called both of them ‘friend’ in better days. That just made the sudden disconnect all the more stark.

Blades met, again and again. Mukuro had the much shorter weapon, but Peko was used to fighting targets armed similarly to her, or ones with guns. She clearly had trouble adjusting to the difference. Mukuro was totally at home with her knife. She’d drilled with it just as much as her gun, from the looks of it. Her swing was perfect, fast, vicious. Aimed right for something vital every single time.

Peko’s reach was longer. To counter, Mukuro stayed right in her face as they moved around. Feet shuffled like a choreographed dance against the ruined, overgrown floor. Those wide swings and long, razor-sharp katana went from Peko’s advantage to a weakness she had to account for.

Mukuro would have ended the fight in seconds, and cut her throat, or run her through.

If she wasn’t facing Peko Pekoyama.

Even with those disadvantages against her, each of Peko’s movements was similarly lightning-fast. Her powerful body surged and flexed, and Hajime could see the power of each swing start in her thick legs, and run all the way up through her.

Peko wasn’t using a sword, so much as the sword was an extension of Peko.

Peko _was_ the sword.

Hajime could barely see what was going on. Seconds decompressed. Time slowed for everyone as they watched. It was impossible to know how long the two weapons fought. Or what happened in any particular moment.

The margin of error was tiny. A single slip-up against an opponent so determined, skilled, and strong would end it.

So, because they couldn’t, neither did make a single mistake.

They just got too close to Rantaro, and forgot he was a crazy man.

Peko saw him coming out of the corner of her eye, of course. She’d been expecting interference. In fact, she’d tried to stop the group from cornering and cuffing Fuyuhiko, but since he was watching the battle too, they met little resistance from the Ultimate Yakuza.

In the space between strikes, Peko used her body’s rotation, already in motion to counter Mukuro’s next jab, to slice at Rantaro for daring to venture into the domain of these war goddesses.

The distraction was just enough. In another clash of steel, Peko’s sword flew.

Mukuro was ready to follow-up, and skewer the Ultimate Swordswoman. Rantaro was in just the right place to tackle Peko instead.

By that point, it was more to cover Peko and stop her from getting stabbed.

“If you were really friends with anybody on this forsaken island, you’ll give up,” Rantaro hissed, “It’s not about saving your own life. Fuyuhiko’s going to need you.”

Mukuro, unmoved by Rantaro, his speech, or the fact that Peko stopped moving beneath him, simply stepped aside so she could get a better angle.

Until Tsumugi tackled her.

The idea of getting close to either of those women while their bloodlust was up and they basically emitted visible auras of force was insane to Hajime. Much less tackling both of them to the ground and trying to disarm them.

Tsumugi got punched in the face for her trouble before Mukuro even realized what was happening.

Luckily, all that was broken was her glasses.

“Darn,” She said. “I really liked those!”

Rantaro looked over from his perch, basically mounted on Peko like an MMA fighter. “You are the Ultimate _Cosplayer_ , right?”

“Yep.”

“So, like. You dress up in pretty dresses, and reference video games we’ve never played before.”

“That’s me!”

Rantaro looked down at the Ultimate Soldier, who was currently pinned down by said Ultimate Cosplayer.

“Hey, you have no room to talk,” Tsumugi chided him, wagging her finger. “Peko could have beheaded you. Then she’d have gained your power, and the room would have exploded.”

Hajime didn’t even have time to comment on the mood whiplash, because the room exploded.

_Sure, why not._

Life had clearly become an action movie directed by that explosion-happy American, so literally why the hell not.

Hajime wasn’t familiar with flashbang grenades, except through pop culture. However, he was pretty sure somebody had rolled one into the gathering.

Especially since when he was finally able to see again, the entire group gathered in this ruined hallway was surrounded.

Who, exactly, was surrounding them?

Everyone, of course.

Everyone?

As in, people who supposedly had the Despair Disease, or were otherwise nowhere to be found when he woke up. Including Hiyoko herself.

Leading the group was none other than the fat Byakuya, called Twogami, who had been laid up in a very sturdy hospital bed until… Until when?

Any Ultimate who was any good at fighting, and a few who weren’t, had all arrived on scene _en masse._

Tenko striking a kung-fu pose she certainly made up, Mondo cracking his knuckles alongside Taka. Both Byakuyas wearing night vision goggles. Kirumi twirling a broom. Kiibo, Akane. Ryoma with a tennis bat and ball, Gundham, with all four Dark Devas of Destruction in formation around him in Attack Mode….

Fucking Gonta in his usual suit, dancing gingerly to avoid chunks of debris and shattered glass because he was philosophically opposed to shoes…

Sakura, Hina riding on her shoulders like mounted infantry, The Amazing Himiko, Maki, Kyouko…

Makoto, what good did he expect to do exactly, the little egg…

Sonia in body armor, with a _fucking smoking rocket launcher slung over her shoulde_ r, which had evidently made _that_ hole in the wall...

Kazuichi, handing her another rocket for to her to reload…

Some guy Hajime didn’t recognize… wait, no. Of course! That was Hiro! Again, _what did that guy think he was going to achieve here…?_

Angie, with a wooden mallet and an evil grin…

Usami was even there, posing dramatically as if she’d actually done something.

Was Hajime missing any? Probably.

He was going completely insane, though. That much was clear. He couldn’t be entirely blamed if some of the smaller details of his delusion were fuzzy.

It really felt like the entire island had crowded into that hallway. What a crowd it was. The group had never, in all the time they’d spent here together, looked more like a circus troupe doing an act than right now.

“This party’s over,” Byakuya Togami, the skinny and douchey edition, proclaimed once they could all hear again. “That will be quite enough of all that.”

“Hey guys,” Junko managed. “Uh. What’s cookin'? I wasn’t expecting literally everybody….”

“No, I expect you didn’t see this one coming,” Twogami shook his head gravely. “After all, you had no way to expect that we would remember. Or be made to remember, by that meddlesome rabbit.”

“Made to... remember?” Hajime echoed.

“That’s right, Hajime.” Kazuichi stepped forward. “Not everything, but enough to know who’s our true enemy here. Or should I call you by your real name?”

“What?”

“Now that we know the truth, would you rather I just call you **‘Izuru Kamukura’**?!”

“.... What?”

Hajime stared into Kazuichi’s glowering shark-face. Blank, not registering what could possibly be going on.

“It’s no use,” Maki said. “We all saw it. A vision, a memory. Absolute proof that those two…” She motioned with her loaded crossbow, “Junko and Mukuro, are two of the three members of the triumvirate known as  **Ultimate Despair**.”

“The masterminds who burned the world down and set the Ultimate Hunt in motion!” Kiibo declared.

Kyouko put a hand on Hajime’s shoulder. “We also know that you’re the third and final member, Hajime. Or, as it turns out, Izuru. Please. If anything you said or did was ever genuine, if any of the bonds you formed with us were even slightly true… just give up without a fight.”

_Give… up?_

_Izuru… Kamukura?_

What the hell was this?

What was going on?!

“You can’t run from the things you’ve done,” Ryoma rumbled. “Not forever. Don’t matter what you do. Memory erasing, tricks, illusions, whatever. It’ll always come back on you, in the end. Best to face it now.”

“Guys… I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Hajime said. “Wait a second. Just hold on a second!”

“We can’t allow Izuru any chance to act,” Gundham proclaimed. “Discussion can come later. Take him.”

Kyouko, Hajime’s fellow amnesic all that time, a friend he’d explored with and hung out with many times, knocked him on his ass without a second’s pause. She pinned him down with a knee, forced the air from him, and got his arms behind his back. She slapped on a pair of handcuffs in the time it took Hajime to realize it was happening.

Followed by manacles clasped in a steel embrace around his legs.

Capped off by a gag wrapped tightly around, and stuffed into, his mouth. Even as he began to scream and yell and protest, and beg to know what the fuck was going on, he was silenced, his muffled panic ignored.

Even as Junko was put in a straightjacket.

Mukuro went for one of her guns.

Sakura smashed her into the wall like a bug, shattering said wall, and put some handcuffs on the remains, before hauling her back to her feet.

Mukuro might have been a genius at combat and war, but she just wasn’t as big. Anyone else would have broken bones, but she got right back up and her expression didn’t so much as change. She did stop resisting, though.

Peko and Fuyuhiko were detained as well, in regular handcuffs.

Considering what happened to Hajime, Junko, and Mukuro, they got off pretty damn lightly considering they just tried to kill Mahiru.

Tsumugi, too, was taken into custody, to her own loud astonishment.

“I’m sorry. But with that ability you’ve demonstrated, and your loyalty to Junko…” Twogami shook his head. “We won’t be taking any chances whatsoever. Not anymore.”

“It’s over,” Byakuya said. “Finally. We’ve uncovered the vipers hiding in our midst, every single one. I have fulfilled the promise that I made, to guide you all. With some small amount of help.”

“I suppose, if we’re one and the same, ‘brother’, that statement is nearly true.”

“What happened yesterday was a tragedy unequaled in myth and legend,” Gundham rumbled. “But at least we have cleansed ourselves. At last, we will be purged of the enemy within! Come, quickly. Take them all to the Brig. Separate cells. Ensure they cannot speak to each other and confederate. Particularly ensure that Izuru and Junko are not spoken to, even by guards! Give them not one scrap of information, one human vulnerability to exploit.”

Hajime had no way to speak up, and he was bound tightly, but he still struggled.

Of course he did! Nothing made any sense. This was like a bad nightmare. People speaking gibberish, endless hands gripping and restraining him, trying to hold him back, trying to take him away.

Hajime wasn’t the sort of guy who just gave up!

Especially when this was all crazy talk.

_Izuru Kamukura?_

_Why are they all calling me that?_

_Who the hell is Izuru Kamukura?!_

_Just tell me! Just talk to me! Make me understand, help me!_

“Stop,” Maki said, firmly gripping Hajime in a standing choke-hold from behind. “Or I’ll have to knock you out, Izuru.”

Being gripped around his neck by the Ultimate Assassin brought things down to earth.

Or at least made Hajime realize that he had no chance to resist.

His face went pale from fear, his eyes bugged out, and nobody would so much as meet his frantic, feral gaze. When his head swam and he felt like he was going to pass out, Hajime gave up and went limp. Maki released him immediately, and dragged him personally along on his feet.

After finishing his restraint by putting a set of sound-cancelling headphones over his ears. Maki brought out a blindfold, too. But at the look in Hajime’s eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to finish the restraint completely. She left it off.

Why, though?

Why any of it?

What was with all this?!

Hajime was no criminal!

At least he could see, so he could tell where they were going. The group, minus only Rantaro and Mahiru, who were let free and told to get lost, was taken directly from the apparently-ancient ruins to the Brig.

Nobody was allowed to speak to them. Hajime couldn’t even hear muffled voices. While Hajime had the most reason to be afraid, since this all came out of left field and he was guilty of no crime, he couldn't help but notice.

Everyone else looked scared, too.

Haunted.

What had they seen? What had they just learned?

What lies had Usami told them?!

_That goddamn rabbit. She made something up. She confused them, somehow._

_Were all the things she’s said lies?! Were the flashback lights really just… lies too? Was it all…_

_It has to be!_

_Because whatever anybody says, I **know** that I’m Hajime Hinata!_

_I’m **not** Izuru Kamukura!_

_I don’t even know who the hell that_ is _! I mean, he’s the honored founder of HPA, but he’s long gone. I think I’d know if I was like a hundred and fifty years old!_

_I’d like to think I’d know if I was somebody else, and not myself!_

Hajime was too worn down and burned out to cry. He just complied with direct commands, and followed along as Kyouko guided him. Her on one side, Maki on the other… and Gonta looming just behind him.

Like Hajime was going to explode, or shoot lasers from his goddamn eyes.

They reached the invincible prison, which loomed overhead. As intact as ever. As Hajime looked up at it, he remembered his first time standing before Hope’s Peak Academy. The real one, back in Japan, back before any of this. He remembered staring up at it in excitement, a hopeful smile on his face.

Somebody was waiting for the party.

Kokichi, standing in front of the gate with a rather terrifying expression of his own. A malicious grin that split his face in half like he was wearing a clownish nightmare mask.

Byakuya stepped forward. The corporate heir barked something, and swept his arm aside. In a gesture clear, even to the restrained, deafened Hajime.

Kokichi shook his head and said something else.

He stood, completely alone, facing down this mob of prisoners and captors.

Not for long.

Maki knocked him out with a kick, and without noticeable effort. She reached into his white jacket. The assassin showed no sign of emotion either in beating him up, or rummaging through his belongings. She soon produced a gleaming key, holding it up to show everyone.

The key to the prison that Kokichi had hid, and kept somehow, all that time.

They really weren’t going to allow for any risks, huh.

Hajime glanced over at Tsumugi, with whom he exchanged a look of clueless terror.

He looked over the other way, and saw Junko. Who had indeed been given the ‘hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil’ treatment. In addition to her full-body restraint.

Yet, beneath that, her shoulders shook.

She was… _laughing_?

Laughing in spite of all that?

Laughing in _this_ situation?

As ordered, the group carried Hajime and the other prisoners along, into the prison, and into their own cells. Priority was given first to making sure Junko was secured, followed by Hajime himself.

He was stuffed into a cell, and chained to the wall like this was the fucking fifth century. Before he could so much as squirm about his situation, the bars of the cell slammed shut automatically.

Once he was secured, the group moved on.

All but Kyouko. She beckoned him to come closer. When he managed it, she removed the earphones and gag. While leaving the rest firmly on, securing his arms and legs together, and tying him to the wall like an animal.

“Kyouko, what-”

She turned sharply on a booted heel, and left without a word.

Like everyone else, she just left him there to rot.

That was the last person he saw for a long while.

The cell was silent, the hallway was silent.

Aside for Hajime’s screaming, of course.

Yelling in rage.

Calling desperately for help.

Demanding explanations.

He yelled for whatever reason suited him, until he ran out of energy.

How much time passed? There was a tiny window that was slowly lighting up, so dawn was clearly approaching. It must have been hours, alone, going mad. Feeling like the world around him had gone mad, and he was the only sane one left.

Sunrise, of a day that was apparently going to be just as insane as the last one.

“I know…” He gasped. “You can hear me in there! Kyouko! Whoever’s up there! Come on! Why am I being treated like a criminal? Like a monster?!”

No response.

“Guys! Anyone! Why are you so afraid?! I don’t even know why you guys are saying I’m… Izuru Kamukura! I’m not!”

Nobody came.

“I’m not Izuru Kamukura! I’m Hajime Hinata! I _’m your friend! **And I’ve done nothing wrong!**_ ”

Nothing.

“I want a trial! Fuck, I don’t know, I just want somebody to tell me why I’m in here!”

Nihil.

“Anybody… please…”

Nobody.

Except for the very last thing Hajime ever wanted to see. Which of course, since today was hell, obligingly popped up with that cursed springy noise into his cell.

Monokuma.

To Hajime’s shame, he couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved to see the black and white demonic bear. Especially since he actually talked to Hajime. That was a welcome change.

As well as the fact that the camera pointed at Hajime’s cell flopped over, and the status light on it winked off. Bringing a brief respite from the feeling that he was being monitored, watched like a science experiment.

What Monokuma said, however, was _not_ welcome.

“Hate to break it to you, kid. But you’re charged with two counts. **Being Izuru Kamukura.** And being responsible, along with the other members of Ultimate Despair, for the **Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event In Human History**. And you’re guilty as charged, on both counts.”

“None of that makes any sense,” Hajime protested weakly.

“It doesn’t make sense as you are now. I’m here to fix that.”

“You’re going to tell me what the hell’s going on?!”

Monokuma scoffed. “Why would I bother doing that? I’m not some cut-price Bond villain who rants about his plans to the guy who’s about to escape anyhow! I’m not that villain… and you’re not going to escape.” Monokuma gave another of his fearful grins. “In other words, the existence you’re wearing now, that Hajime Hinata… is going to **disappear**.”

“Disappear?” Hajime stared. “I’ll… disappear?”

Dread opened up like a yawning void before him.

“Disappear!” Monokuma repeated. “You never knew what was going on, did you? You searched so hard for the truth, but that truth was taken from you at the start of the game. It was rigged from the start, by Usami.”

“What did she do? She… took something from me?”

“She took _everything_ from you!” Monokuma produced a very familiar flashlight device. “And since she fucked with my plans, I’ll give her a taste of the same bitter medicine. Oh, I won’t hurt anybody. In fact, this is just… memory therapy. I’m going to restore all of what was taken from you.”

“And that’s going to make me vanish?!” Hajime squeezed his eyes shut. “Keep that thing away from me! S-Stay back!”

“When I use this flashback light, you will cease to be! Hajime Hinata was a temporary shell. You will emerge from it, into your true form. Izuru Kamukura. There won’t even be save data left of this farce sitting chained before me now.”

“I won’t believe you! I won’t let you do anything to me!” Hajime roared to the darkness, outraged, tensing up. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, and whoever was in the control room didn’t even know he was getting this unwelcome visit. Suddenly, he wished the camera was working again. “I have no reason to trust you! Everything you’ve said so far has been poison! You’re the enemy! Somebody, help! Help!”

“ _I’m_ your enemy? Upupupu. That’s a little backwards. Hmm. I guess it would be cruel to do this without at least explaining a little,” Monokuma admitted. “It would be totally heartless to let a comrade vanish without knowing why. Or why Nagito decided to betray the Ultimates.”

Hajime’s eyes opened instinctively. “Nagito?! What did he-”

_Click._

The flashback light opened.

Hajime was engulfed in light, and ceased to exist.

Monokuma departed with his signature laugh, leaving only the truth behind in that cold, dark metal cell. As the sun rose outside, the first waking wisps of light landed on Hajime’s true self. The one who had been so carefully sealed away.

There was no longer any such thing as Hajime Hinata.

Only Izuru Kamukura remained.

_So, this is what happened._

_How boring._

**-**

**ACT 2: A Blood-Soaked Paradise**

**END**

**-**


	38. 3-1. Life Goes On (Shuichi)

_If this is a computer world, it’s inconveniently detailed._

_I’d have been perfectly happy drinking a health potion and walking it off._

_Rather than all this, and enough morphine to kill an elephant._

_I suppose it’s better than the alternatives._

Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Detective, was just grateful to be alive.

Not something to take for granted these days.

Lots of visitors, that first day in the hospital. Word traveled fast in small communities. Everyone who survived that bloody day had grown heroic to the others. He smiled, nodded, played along, and retained nothing.

That day passed in a mercifully drug-addled blur. He wasn’t awake long. When he was awake, Shuichi could have been stabbed again and never noticed.

In fact, for all he knew, Mikan had operated on him. She certainly had enough blood all over. Shuichi wasn’t big on medical procedures. He just knew the scissors came out, he lost a lot of blood, and had to get it back through transfusions. Maybe there were donors. Maybe the hospital had a reserve supply. It had everything else.

Shuichi had a lot of drugs in him, and a lot of regrets. It was natural for things to get trippy with so little blood and so much chemical in the bloodstream. Visions, dreams. Haunting by angry spirits, recalling his many sins and failings.

A visit or two from Atua.

The works.

He’d been stabbed into both wrists and both ankles, straight through. Arteries weren’t doing so well after that, and neither was his ability to move his limbs. He couldn’t describe in detail the procedures used to save his life and help him on the road to recovery.

He did appreciate the net effect, though.

Shuichi was only still breathing through the tireless efforts and skillful, overbearing care of Mikan Tsumiki. Many people on this island now owed her their lives.

Those timely rescues wouldn’t have amounted to anything without prompt, proper medical care, from a professional, with good equipment. Any lack in any of those three elements would have resulted in certain death.

When he mumbled those facts out to the blood-soaked nurse, she just wiggled and muttered. “I-It’s all I’m g-good for.”

“You say that a lot.”

At least she was now capable of acknowledging she was good for something.

Angie’s influence, no doubt.

“O-Only because it’s true!” Mikan whispered at him, trying to keep her voice down but also give emphasis. The result was something Shuichi could only describe, especially in his altered state, as ‘intensely fluffing’. “Well, and uh. It’s not like I get nothing out of this.”

“I don’t think my insurance covers out here.” Shuichi muttered. “Or knows I still exist.”

“Not that. It’s just…” Mikan giggled. “Everyone says I’m so selfless. I guess I can confess to you, though. You’ll hardly remember anything by tomorrow.”

“True,” Shuichi admitted dreamily.

A new side of Mikan emerged in the safety this afforded her.

One she’d never let out before in Shuichi’s presence. Maybe just once or twice before, in moments of great strain. Now, she put aside bumbling pretense. Her voice was deeper and more assured.

She spoke without tripping over her words, or looking aside.

“You already figured out why I have so many ‘accidents’. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it before, but I’m selfish. More than anything, I want to be… valued. Needed. Angie places value on me. As a person, a follower, but mainly, for what I can do. In fact, the whole island recognizes the need for the Ultimate Nurse. Especially right now.”

Mikan tried to wipe her hands on the apron she’d been forced, through necessity, to equip over her black bikini. It was useless, though. Hands and apron were both absolutely soaked in the blood of others. The apron was more pink than white anymore, and she smelled about as awful as Shuichi looked.

Mikan looked like she’d been through a slaughterhouse, but to her, it was an amusement park.

“Ehe. So while I’m worried about you, please don’t return the favor. I know that you’d be dead without me. I relish the thought. I enjoy having this much power. A power only Atua should have. Life and death. You can’t get more dependent. See? I really am a horrible person, deep down.”

Shuichi cough-laughed. “I never thought you were horrible, Mikan. I still don’t.”

“Never? Uh, not even…?” She twirled a thankfully-empty syringe between gloved fingers expertly.

“Crazy, sure,” Shuichi smiled. “Damaged. In serious need of help. Help I can’t give. I thought Angie couldn’t give it, either. Now I’m not so sure. Regardless, I always knew you were trying your best. Don’t beat yourself up for being human. Just enjoy your moment in the sun. Er, in the blood and guts.”

Mikan smiled back at him. “Sheesh. Get well soon. But not too soon. You’re really cute when you’re vulnerable and honest like this.”

It was amazing how invigorating it felt to be alive, when one had skirted so close to the void. Shuichi didn’t even mind Mikan in full Creeper Mode. When once he’d all but run away, screaming.

Colors were _brighter_ , hospital food _exploded_ with taste.

Everyone was _beautiful_.

As the pain weakened, so too did the painkillers, quickly. As a greater percentage of his bloodstream was blood, Shuichi got more capable of holding down his end of a conversation and remembering it.

As **Day 39** dawned gloomy and cloudy on the smoldering ruins of Gopher Island, Shuichi was still swimming in drugs, but capable of realizing that Kaede had stayed through the night, contrary to hospital regulations.

She slumped against a chair to one side of the room. Her breathing was calm and level, and her expression was so peaceful. Faint beams of light from the window caught her golden hair and soft, pale skin just right. It framed her like an angelic glow.

Beautiful as ever, with or without the adrenaline high.

The ace detective also finally noticed that he was sharing a room with Kaito.

When had that started?

There were worse sights to wake up to than those two. The dim, overcast morning light filtered through the windows more strongly and illuminated their faces. Kaito was placed in front of a window. The light soon woke him up.

He gave a great dramatic yawn and stretched out.

“Morning, Shuichi. How you doing?”

“Better,” Shuichi replied. “At least, I can talk to people now.”

“Finally, some good news! At least we don’t gotta worry about infection anymore, either. Or that disease at all, really!” Kaito bellowed, loud enough to startle Kaede awake. “Usami made the whole thing go away with that latest flashback light. Damndest thing.”

Because those could... do that?

Sure.

Shuichi didn’t feel like questioning the miracle that brought Kaede back.

The real one.

“Kaede, look. Shuichi’s eyes aren’t the size of dinner plates anymore!”

Kaede looked. Apparently, she liked what she saw. That was an odd, welcome feeling. Something warm came from deep within Shuichi’s cold body, and flooded out even to his extremities, as sensation slowly returned. Just in time for Kaede to bowl over her boyfriend in a warm, loving embrace. If his arms worked better, he’d have returned the hug. Even so, he enjoyed the softness of her sweater. Of, well, everything.

_If there was a silver lining to these incidents, it was that because Kaede was laid up in the hospital, none of those psychos ever got close to her. Aside from all the time they spent pretending to be friends with everyone._

_Over a month together. In most cases, nobody’d had a clue until..._

“Good morning, Shuichi. How are you feeling?”

Kaede’s smile banished dark thoughts to the furthest recesses of Shuichi’s mind. For now. They’d always be back, but seeing those purple eyes curl up in genuine human warmth, hearing her gentle, caring, soulful voice, was like he was being healed faster than any medicine could do.

“Good,” Shuichi said. “All things considered, very good. If the Despair Disease is gone, then…?”

“Yeah. I’m finally back to normal.”

Shuichi drew back and looked her over, skeptically. “I need... context. What exactly does a ‘normal Kaede’ look like?”

Kaede laughed through her tears. “Geeze.”

So much had gone wrong. By now, Shuichi at least knew of all the other incidents that followed his own, though details were scarce. Much as Mikan tried to dote and keep the stress away from her patients. Presumably by accumulating it all within herself like a hate-sink. However, with all that, Shuichi knew one thing for sure.

The three of them in this room were still alive, and they were together.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Shuichi said. “Both of you.”

Kaito stared at him. “Dumbass! That’s what we’re supposed to say to you!”

“I was so worried,” Kaede sobbed into Shuichi’s shoulder. “We all were, but. The thought that the last time we ever spoke could be when I was being a mega-bitch… I couldn’t stand it. It was the worst feeling in the world.” She glanced over at Kaito, rolling her eyes. “Listen to me complain and unload about my feelings, I’m such a girl.”

“Given what’s happened, we all deserve to unburden ourselves,” Shuichi said. “So I’ll just come out and say it. I had regrets, too. Maybe it even helped me pull though, since I wasn’t done with life yet. Not until I made things right. I betrayed you…” He glanced over at Kaito. “And I’d never be able to apologize for it if I died down there. I was weak, I…”

“You nearly _died_ , Shuichi!” Kaede said, forcefully cutting off the pity party. “I don’t give a crap about you boys kissing. It literally doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, except that you made it through. You survived, and I'm so thankful.”

“But…” Shuichi protested weakly, because he was. “I really messed up, and I messed up the investigation, and… Kaede?”

Kaede marched over to Kaito’s bed on the other side of the room.

“I’m going to show you how little it matters to me. Kaito, close your eyes.”

“I understand.” Kaito had punched people before to set them straight. He knew what was coming. Without a word of complaint, he closed his eyes and clenched up to receive a punch like a man. A punch he felt was entirely justified.

Instead, Kaede _kissed_ him.

“There. Now we’re even.”

_Whoa._

Shuichi stared.

Kaito stared.

Kaede grinned impishly.

“Looks like I’m interrupting.”

After a perfectly-timed comedic beat, everyone looked over at the door. Which was open, and featured Maki Harukawa, the Ultimate Assassin, standing there watching the merry goings-on.

She was profoundly unimpressed.

“I’ll come back later.”

“Hold it!” Kaito said. “You’re not getting out of this so easily, Maki Roll. Come on in! You’re as welcome as anyone. Moreso, even.”

“Maki… Roll…?” Shuichi echoed.

_I remember that from before, too. Was it really smart to give the Ultimate Assassin cutesy food-pun nicknames? Or keep using them?_

_Could Kaito ever be accused of being smart?_

“If you really want to square things up, Kaede, you should kiss Maki Roll.”

Kaede stared back and forth with a hopeful expression. “... Can I?”

“Try it.”

Maki’s glare hardened into a dangerous, sharp point. Her red eyes glowed. Shuichi’s blood ran cold, even though he wasn’t the target of the stare.

“Maybe they’ll move _your_ bed in here, too.”

Maki’s trademark intimidating aura, which before was difficult to attribute a direct cause, got a lot sharper once one knew about her Ultimate talent.

Kaede laughed nervously. “Juuust got out of the hospital. Maybe not.” She kept a respectful five-meter bubble of personal space.

Sensing that both Shuichi and Kaede were not, perhaps, comfortable with Maki, and that Maki was likewise not comfortable standing in a room with others besides himself, Kaito had to think of a clever way to solve this issue. Or at least, he did his best to come up with something to say.

“We’ve got to get back in the habit of working out!” Kaito said. “When we can. Kaede, you fell off the wagon, and Maki, you shut yourself off. Our training sessions fell apart.”

“I still trained at our normal time,” Maki objected, matter-of-fact. “I just did it inside my Lab.”

“I’m guilty, though,” Kaede admitted. “Before I got infected, I sort of let it go. Gosh knows that thing living in my skin, that Monokuma fangirl, didn’t care much for exercise. But she did care a lot for sweets. Even more than me, somehow. Guess it’ll be just us until the two of you are back on your feet.”

“Great,” Maki said. “... Shuichi, here.”

Maki had been the only one who thought, in all this time, to go back to Genocider Syo’s lair, and grab that hat.

She presented it like it was his baby, and all Shuichi could do was stare.

“Well?”

“Uh.” Maki was a killer, and the dissonance played hell with Shuichi’s brain. Even so, he pulled together a response that wasn’t rude. “T-Thank you, Maki. I’ll keep it with me. But I don’t think I want to wear it anymore.”

“Oh?” Kaede said. “Why? Bad memories?”

“It’ll just get in the way now.” Shuichi sighed. “Recent events have made it abundantly clear that I can’t avert my gaze from the truth. Even if exposing the truth isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, keeping secrets and ignoring problems just led to all this.” He blushed and glanced aside. “I’m not going to bother saying something like how it’s my fault, since you’d just argue with me. But we can do better. I’ve gotta lead by example, I guess.”

Maki glanced over at Kaito, and then Kaede. “Somebody’s got to, around here. Do what you want, it’s your own damn hat.” She set the hat on the bedpan tray next to Shuichi, within arm’s reach.

Being that close to somebody who could kill him, after just surviving a murder attempt, was, well.

It was a rush, and not in a way Shuichi enjoyed.

Luckily, she soon backed off, preferring her own bubble of personal space as far away from the others as possible.

Maki was hopefully no threat to the Ultimates.

If she _was_ , she wouldn’t have saved Sayaka and Chihiro. Or come out during the Truth and Reconciliation.

More than that, the most telling thing was what reportedly happened right after Maki burst into Kiyo’s Lab and took him down. When she had him dead to rights, and was about to finish off the manic. When Chihiro, with his(!) last ounce of strength, pled for the life of his own murderer.

_Maki listened._

Evidently.

Kiyo was alive in one of these rooms, far away, and under guard.

_Just like Nagito._

“That’s really cool of you, Maki. Unless you’re just trying to buy into the good graces of an Ultimate Detective?~” Kaede smiled and clapped her hands together in approval.

When Maki didn’t answer, Kaede rolled along. nervousness still present in her voice. “A-Anyway! I think you look cooler without it, Shuichi.” Without the hat pressing it down, a bit of his own ‘idiot hair’ stuck up. That was the main difference, aside from the brim of the hat not concealing Shuichi’s eyes like it often would.

Shuichi blushed. He didn’t feel any cooler than before just from that. The high from coming off being actually high was wearing off fast. However, the artificial highs of the chemical cocktails were being replaced with warm, real human interaction. Ibuki might be able to handle both on a regular basis and enjoy it that way, but an Ultimate Detective’s mind had to be sharp, and uninhibited.

“Huh. Come to think of it, you haven’t been wearin’ your hat!” Kaito snapped his fingers. “Knew it was something. I never even noticed.” Whether that was true or not, it was somewhat comforting.

Shuichi didn't want it to be a big deal or anything.

He was just done hiding.

“Plus! We match now.” Kaede leaned forward, and made a heart symbol with their curved ahoges.

Kaito’s grin was as massive as Maki’s frown. “I’m going to be sick. What’s with you guys? You’re acting like we just won a war. Instead of barely surviving Monokuma and the psychos.”

Shuichi managed a smile of his own. “That’s just it. We survived. That’s enough, for now.”

“The problem was that we weren’t able to collaborate! Now that we’re together, we’ll be unstoppable!” Kaito said. “We can start to put the pieces back together. One at a time. The hero, and his three lovely sidekicks.”

“Keep dreaming, I’m the protagonist of this messed-up story,” Kaede shot back.

“I guess we’re all the hero of our own tales,” Kaito admitted sheepishly.

_You backed off quickly there, Kaito. Has she subjugated you with her feminine wiles?_

_I know the feeling._

“Oh, by the way. We’ve got to have a big meeting when you’re up for it and figure out what we’re actually gonna do. The Council has a new member!” Kaede said. "We had to, uh, replace Junko. Permanently.”

“Because she’s apparently evil incarnate?” Shuichi asked, skeptical.

He hadn’t seen Usami’s flashback light, but descriptions of what had happened were tough to come by.

Everyone was too shaken up to even talk about it, but it had unified their hearts against Junko, Mukuro, and Hajime.

Er, Izuru.

“Actually, yes,” Kaede nodded. “If you saw that stuff, Shuichi, you wouldn’t have any doubts left.”

No, I’ll keep having my doubts until we understand more about these flashback lights. Everything we’ve seen in them… it’s tough to believe it.

“But there was a… hitch. So things are kinda tense in the group now.”

Maki sighed. “In case you didn’t notice, there’s a lot of Atua going around lately. We just traded one virus for another. I’d say easily more than half of the remaining Ultimates listen to Angie now, instead of their own brains.”

That was exactly the situation the Council was worried about. It started slowly. When there were a lot of people around, Angie’s group was just one of many, and the stakes weren’t life-and-death, it had just been one issue of many.

Now, people wanted any relief they could find from constant fear.

The medicine they chose was a particularly potent drug.

“Angie wanted it to be a general election,” Kaito explained. “Meaning everyone on the island can run, and everyone can vote. Minus the crazy people.”

“Minus those crazy people who’ve been locked up,” Maki corrected him. “The crazy people still out would have been counted too.”

Kaede sighed. “I’m the only one who’d have a chance against her. Or I would have been. Before I spent a week being a venomous bitch for no good reason, to everyone around me, constantly. Sad to say it, but nobody else who would run could possibly beat Angie.”

“So she tried to manipulate the process to guarantee she’d win?” Shuichi asked.

“Yep,” Maki said. “So, they did that back to her.”

‘That’s a little stiff,” Kaito protested. “We just insisted that the vote be carried out in the same way as Junko’s! Only people from Class One got a say in.”

“Given what’s happened, that’s down to about three people,’ Kaede said. “Taka won, so he’s now on the Council.” She made a face. “Total sausage-fest, now.”

“At least the Council doesn’t have a lunatic on it,” Shuichi said.

“Yep. Just a stupid Captain,” Maki agreed.

Kaito pulled one of those goofy outraged faces again. He had to be doing that on purpose. Nobody was that lacking in self-awareness.

Right?

“Hey! That really hurts my feelings, you know!”

Maki stared at him in perfect calm. “That’s why I said it.”

“Ahem.” Kaede grinned. “So! Taka’s I dunno, off yelling at people to do their jobs?”

“Great leadership style,” Kaito nodded. “Good man! He might actually take this shit seriously. Which is good, considering things are gonna get a lot tougher for the Council.”

Kaede balled up her fists. “Right! At least we know we can trust everyone who’s left, more or less.”

“You’re going to put your trust in everyone, after what happened?” Maki stared. **“Do you wanna die?”**

Kaede tensed up. “M-Maki, that’s…”

“Not funny,” Shuichi finished for her.

“It’s a little funny,” Kaito admitted. “That’s just Maki Roll’s way of making a joke! Threatening murder, kidding around. Who’s to say what’s what?”

 _Shuichi_ was to say!

_That’s a very unfortunate habit!_

“A-Anyway,” Kaede said. “Secrets are out, and the bad guys are behind bars. It’s not perfect, but now we’re not expecting betrayal anymore. We’ve, like, had our betrayal quota. Hopefully.” Maki wasn’t sold. But she also wasn’t in charge, and didn’t care enough to argue. “So with that, we can deal with all the stuff, set policies, and, well.”

“At some point, you’re going to have to decide what to do with Ultimate Despair. With all of the prisoners,” Shuichi said. “By the way, how did you guys know? How did everybody know so quickly to go and arrest them all in the middle of that incident with Fuyuhiko and Peko?”

The three others in the room shared a meaningful look.

“No point in avoidin’ it anymore,” Kaito said. “It was all that flashback light, like you figured. The one that cured everyone. It gave us all a vision. A recovered memory too, like usual. Except this one…”

“It was a nightmare,” Kaede said. “Worse than the meteors, the Hunt, anything.”

“We saw things from Chiaki’s perspective,” Maki was the one to explain it coldly, without personal feelings so much as changing her inflection. “She was betrayed, and murdered, by people she thought were her friends. Mukuro, Junko, and… Hajime.”

Shuichi stared. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Look at what happened,” Maki snipped. “What else could it have been?”

“But that’s _exactly_ what I expected,” Shuichi said. “Or rather, for this outcome, it’s the sort of flashback light vision that would be… _needed_ , in a sense. To get to this outcome.”

“You’re implying that the vision fit what needed to happen too perfectly,” Kaede reasoned. “I can see how you’d say that, Shuichi, but… I don’t think this was a fake or anything.”

“It was real. Damn real.” Kaito shook his head. “Frankly, Usami wanted to wake up everyone in treatment, you included. But I put my foot down on that. Glad I did, in hindsight. I’m really glad you didn’t have to see that, partner. You been through enough.”

Kaede shook her head. “We could go into specifics if you wanted, but maybe later?”

“... Yeah, that’s fine.”

Shuichi would need to go over the events that happened in that flashback in detail, but there was no reason that had to happen now.

“Whatever else you can say about Angie,” Kaede said, “And I can sure say a lot, her plan to stop Monokuma’s motive worked. It at least prevented a worse outcome. That’s… more than what the Council’s been able to manage against that little nightmare.”

Kaito shook his head.

“Don’t forget the first day! when the bastard came at us with all those robots! It wasn’t Atua that saved us then, Makoto got the damn stick for Usami, and she blew them away! We ain’t anywhere approaching helpless.”

“Well said, Kaito!~ Well said indeed.”

Shuichi looked over to the door. His eyes narrowed.

“Angie.”

It was inevitable.

Especially after poor Mikan literally collapsed from exhaustion, following her marathon of surgical operations.

The very moment that she knew everyone wouldn’t literally die if she shut down, she did.

Like she knew on instinct when her duty as the Ultimate Nurse could give way to Mikan Tsumiki’s need to, at some point, rest.

Leaving New Head Nurse Angie to pick up the slack.

Great.

“Hi-hi, everyone! Shuichi! You’re looking pretty good. I knew you’d heal quick!”

Maki stared coldly at the Ultimate Artist, saying nothing.

Kaito glared in annoyance, and was vocal about it. “Hey! Angie, what gives?! This is supposed to be a private meeting!”

“My, my. Angie must have missed that notice!” Angie said, not very convincingly. “Say, if it’s supposed to be a touching reunion… then I wonder why Maki is here?~”

Maki still said nothing.

The angles of her face became more jagged, harsh, and the area around her eyes was shaded thanks to the angle of the light. Her eyes were still clearly visible, though.

Two points of deepest red.

“Some people might wonder what such a ‘dangerous loner’, or a ‘wild beast who knows only how to kill’, is doing up here. They might even say it’s not proper!” She squished her cheeks together.

“That’s just a bunch of silly talk,” Kaede replied, standing up and crossing her arms. “And you know it, Angie.”

“Of course! Angie doesn’t support any of that rude muttering. She’s just worried that somebody might see Maki as a ‘threat to the island’. And try to contain that threat.”

“Maki saved two people’s lives,” Kaede said, forcefully. “Your own followers!”

“For which, I’m eternally grateful-”

“Let them try.”

“Hmm?~”

Maki’s glare was now focused on Angie, and she looked like a coiled spring ready for action, fists clenched.

“If anybody wants to see what it’s like to piss off a professional killer, not some hobbyists, then we’ll see what fucking happens.”

Kaito recoiled in surprise.

“Whoa! Maki Roll, just hang on a second-”

“Maki, that’s really not helpful.” Kaede put her hands on her hips, physically putting herself between Angie and Shuichi. “As for you. Angie, what do you think you’re-”

“Everyone,” Shuichi said, weakly raising a hand. The effort needed to even do that much was considerable, and he regretted it afterwards. A spike of pain shot up his side, through the weakening fog of lesser painkillers. “Um, when we’re done, I did need to speak with Angie about something.”

Kaede glanced back, eyes wide. “You… do?”

Translation; ‘Are you _sure_ you want to be in the same room as this girl?’

_Not really._

_But we need to hash things out._

_There’s no more time for messing around._

“I’m sure.” Shuichi braced himself. “We need to talk. I have something to say to you.”

“Mhm, it’s just as Atua told me when I woke up. I’ll be back in a bit~”

“Thank you.”

Kaede took considerable convincing, but she saw the determination behind Shuichi’s weary glare. She might not have agreed with giving Angie access to him so soon after the incident, considering what she was known for. However, she had to respect his wishes.

Now that she was free of the grip of the Despair Disease, she was capable of things like respect again.

It was nice.

Respect was something Shuichi could give, too. To anybody who’d earned it, regardless of what happened in the past between them.

When Maki and Kaede took their leave to head off for what was left of the beach, Angie popped back in. Kaito made a show of putting a magazine over his face, like one did in movies to pretend to be sleeping.

It was the closest to a private conversation they were going to get.

Having him there gave Shuichi a little more strength, too.

Enough to look Angie right in the eyes, and say what had been on his mind since the sickness started spreading a week ago.

“Angie. Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

“For all the good things you’ve done. However you did it, you kept things running when the normal systems were falling apart. You gave the people hope in a hopeless time. You ensured the sick and injured were cared for. You saved my life.” He shook his head. “Whether the real reason you sent people out was on a hunch, divine inspiration, or Kyouko’s backup plan working better than she thought, the reason doesn’t matter. What matters is the result. I’m grateful.”

“Oh no, I’m blushing! Careful, Shuichi. If you’re too cute, it’ll be hard to hold back.”

“You’ll manage,” Kaito grumbled out beneath his magazine.

Which Shuichi noticed featured floral arrangements and home decor...?

Shuichi didn’t let her flippancy, or Kaito’s choice in reading material, even slow him down.

“Every second of my life since hellish dungeon is a gift from you to me. I don’t intend to let it go to waste.”

“Does that mean you’ve reconsidered certain things about your life?~”

“I definitely have.” Shuichi sighed. “I want back in.”

“Back in to Black Hats?~”

Shuichi nodded. “That’s right. If you still want me, then I’m willing to give it another shot. I think we can make it work.”

Angie grinned. “I want you more now than ever. I just knew, like the others, you’d come around. It’s not like Atua saved you just so you could convert, and repent of your past transgressions. Buuut it sure would be nice.”

“That’s the thing. I don’t plan on converting to anything.”

Angie pouted. “Aw. Still not going to open yourself up to Atua’s love? Can I ask why, given you’ve seen His power firsthand?~”

“Simple. I don’t plan on being your pawn, or your servant. Or a follower. Whatever words you choose to use, that’s not who I can ever be. It’s not like I have strength where others don’t. I just can’t force myself to live like that. It would be a lie. To myself, to you, to everyone. I can’t _follow_ you. I’ve chosen to follow Kaede, and this guy over there. But I could _walk alongside_ you. I’ll be your **friend**.” Shuichi smiled. “If you’re interested.”

“A friend, huh.” Angie tapped her chin. “Perfect.”

“That’s… perfect?”

“Mhm!” Angie smiled even more brightly. “Back on my island, I always got my way.”

_There’s a shock._

“Having somebody who won’t let me get away with whatever is new and exciting! I can’t push you, without you growing a spine and pushing back. That makes you different from any other boy I’ve been around. And much, much more exciting.”

She went in for a hug. Shuichi couldn’t deny, she was warm and soft, too. And wearing very little, as was her custom.

“Still right here,” Kaito said.

 _‘Still don’t care’_ , Angie’s impish gaze said right back, over Shuichi’s shoulder.

Shuichi sighed. “I can’t explain it, but I’ve always known that you’re not my enemy, Angie. When we fought and split the group, it felt wrong. Just like it feels right to put it back together.”

“I’ve felt it too. Are you sure it’s not because you’re wildly attracted to me?~”

Shuichi grinned. “Loaded question. You’re pre-supposing that I’m madly in love with you, in such a way that any answer I give confirms that.”

“Nyahaha!~ Welcome back to the Black Hats, Shuichi. Everyone is going to be delighted. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get any of them to so much as dislike you! Well, mostly. Fixing that should be easy now, though. Mikan and Chihiro, er, once they’re awake, they’ll love it. Don’t be surprised if you get visits from Mikan again! Or a Gonta bearhug.”

“Can we uh, defer that last one? I’m still being held together with stitches. My ribs are the one thing that don’t hurt yet.”

“Nyahahaha~”

Shuichi still wasn’t going to wear a hat anymore.

Maybe he was just going through his rebellious phase.

Kaito and Shuichi’s room hosted the meeting, as planned.

All three members of the reborn Council took seats between their hospital beds. Taka, Gundham, and Kaede. Kyouko, as newly-appointed Head of Security, hosted the event standing up. Monokuma and Usami both showed up in opposite corners of the room, since nobody could stop them.

Then there was Angie. She stayed.

Shuichi expected a fight, but she got a folding chair without objection.

 _“It’s better to give her a seat at the table,”_ Kaede explained in an annoyed whisper, _“Then to freeze her out. She’d just find a more dramatic way, like making a ‘student council’ to compete with us or something. She doesn’t have a vote, and it’ll sure as heck stay that way.”_

_Democracy sure is an endless struggle._

“Alright, Kyouko. Let’s get this show on the road, as those Gen Z kids say.” Taka proclaimed. No, they didn’t- “First! Operation Shuichi Briefing! Speak clearly, and enunciate!”

Kyouko nodded. “A lot happened in the past two days, Shuichi. Major events include, but are not limited to; the **incidents with Touko, Kiyo and Junko** , the **emergency election and Angie’s recruitments** , and the **next progress gate and the consequent unlocking of Sixth and Seventh islands**.”

“Wait. More islands are open?!”

Usami cleared her throat. “As it turned out, my idea to distract everybody from the horrors of recent days, uh. Didn’t go so well. I just meant to give everyone incentive to get along, but…”

“Usami ran a check on our ‘romantic progress’,” Kaede rolled her eyes. “‘"In order to progress, at least seventeen students must be in romantic relationships.’ Apparently we’ve already passed! So the blockers on those bridges vanished instantly.”

“Never _was_ that good at programming,” Monokuma remarked. “Poor, _stupid_ Usami. Now that it’s gone, it would take a lot of effort to restore those invincible barriers, too. Well, if you still have that much power over this world, I’m sure you could manage...”

“Nobody asked for your input, Monokuma! We’re not friends!” Kaito blasted. “There you go again, talking about ‘worlds’ and ‘power’. The grown-ups are talking.”

“Huh? Where?!”

“It’s like if Kokichi was immortal and could get anywhere,” Angie pitched in. “Chilling~”

Why is Kokichi similar to Monokuma, anyhow? Right down to that checkerboard scarf, and their playful attitude towards deadly things.

“Considering the chaos that was unsealed last time,” Gundham said. “We dispatched a watchman posthaste. All entry to the new lands is barred. Pending a decision here.”

“Nobody’s gone exploring?” Shuichi asked.

“Nobody’s _allowed_ to explore,” Taka said. “For safety reasons!”

Kaede sighed. “We didn’t have to work hard to convince people to hold their horses. Nobody’s in the mood for a fun adventure. We’re all still getting over the shock, I think. Even Usami admits the timing was bad on this one.”

“I’m vexed that you guys aren’t even curious,” Usami admitted. “Although I can understand why. If I could re-seal those islands until better days, I probably would.” She glanced over at Monokuma. “However, that’s beyond me at the moment, because of damage to the system.”

Monokuma stared back at her. “Get good.”

“I said ** _can it!_** We’ll discuss what our next move is afterwards,” Kaito said. “Next!”

Shuichi nodded. “Uh. Well, I’ve already heard about the election. But Angie, new members are joining?”

“Absolutely!” Excitement filled her energetic tone. “People are turning to Atua in this time of need, and Atua will provide. Nyahaha!” She clapped. “Now, we can talk about this sort of thing together, rather than you guys just skulking around and reporting on my group secondhand. With all sorts of unkind rumors.”

“Hey, that’s… yeah, that’s basically what we did,” Kaito admitted sheepishly.

“What? So it’s a ‘rumor’ that you’re having wild… debauchery?!” The straight-laced Taka demanded. “The salacious reports we’re receiving are completely unacceptable, young lady!”

_She’s twenty-something, Taka. Even if she’s not the tallest._

“Oh, no. That part’s totally true,” Angie brushed off. “It’s the other stuff that worries me. Like the insulting implications behind the word ‘cult’! If it was just Angie, then Angie wouldn’t mind. However, this insults everyone of the faith. Especially those who still cling to life under our treatment, like Sayaka and Chihiro. Haven’t they suffered enough, huh? Huh?” She swayed back and forth, in bobblehead mode.

_How transparent._

It worked, of course.

“Ahem. Regular radio broadcasts of the Word of Atua allow me to hold services without gathering everyone. We’ll save the group meetings for, well. Special occasions. Also, I just want to say for everyone’s sake that we’re not planning to take over, or anything.”

“I mean, if she says it,” Monokuma shrugged. “I’d buy that for five hundred, Alex.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Kaede snapped. “I mean, Angie, if you had some evil plan, you’d have probably done it by now, right? Shuichi’s not wrong. All you’ve done is be helpful. And various other unneeded things, but hey. Nobody wants to be your enemy.”

“That’s smart~” Angie clapped in delight. “So with that in mind, the fact that half the island now listens to Angie won’t be any problem. If anything, we can use it to prevent more of those incidents.”

_Angie really does seem to hate killing and killers._

_If she influences everyone to stand together, then it might be okay._

_And if that’s not how things go, I’ll be ready, Angie._

_I lost the last hecks I could give along with most of my blood._

“Speaking of, we should probably review… what happened. If you’re up for it,” Kaede was quick to clarify. “If you don’t wanna, we can move on.”

_Nobody’s asking Kyouko if she’s okay with it, even though she was a victim, too._

_Then again, she also wasn’t put up on one of those crosses by that monster._

“It’s fine,” Shuichi lied. “Besides, this is the most important thing.”

Kyouko nodded. “Very well. We both lived through Touko’s incident, so there’s nothing more to say about it. She surrendered, and was safely imprisoned in the Brig. Like all other prisoners, she is being kept in isolation for now.

Nagito is under care and custody at the hospital, and will be transferred to the Brig for his role in both ‘serial killer’ incidents, and interrogated, as soon as it’s safe.

Although I’ll come back to this point, I’ll note here for the Council that solitary confinement has been compared to torture by law enforcement, scientific studies, and government agencies.” Kyouko glared. “And I agree with that finding.”

Angie pouted. “And that’s bad? These are psychos and murderers, you know.”

“Some of them are,” Kaede corrected her, avoiding the main thing she said for now. “Kyouko, let’s… move on.”

“Understood.” Kyouko produced a set of photographs, showing the bloody, horrifying aftermath of Kiyo’s incident. “You’ve heard already, but feast your eyes. This happened shortly after we were rescued, as another direct consequence of Monokuma’s motives.”

“Oopsie~” Monokuma giggled. “Hey, nobody died! No harm, no foul!”

“All three people involved suffered grievous injuries,” Kyouko said. “And all three are still here in the hospital, undergoing treatment. Kiyo confessed freely during the incident and in the aftermath that he’s a serial killer, who’s targeted girls. Just like Genocider Syo, a killer who exclusively targets men. Both claims a very high body count, and I’m inclined to believe it. Due to this, Kiyo’s been tied to a bed in Heavy Containment. I think he gets sick pleasure from the ropes. His room is under guard constantly. I’ve also bugged it and he is being monitored constantly to record his heavily… aberrant behavior.”

She showed her Hope Pad, which was displaying a live feed from Kiyo’s hospital bed, panning slowly back and forth.

“Once he’s recovered from being shot by Maki’s arrows, we’re going to move him to the Brig, as well. The victims are recovering slowly. Chihiro was stabbed countless times, while Sayaka was shot in the stomach. Those aren’t things you walk off, but neither are in critical condition anymore.”

Shuichi looked for even a small sign from Kyouko, a reaction to discussing that. She didn’t even blink. She just kept going.

“You may have picked up some of that already. However, the last incident, with Junko, is something we’ve kept a tighter lid on. It started with Fuyuhiko and Peko’s plan to murder Mahiru. For reasons we have yet to completely unfold.

Although if Mahiru, Rantaro, and Hiyoko want to avoid going into the Brig, too, they’ll cooperate fully with my investigation.”

“Is that really just our new normal?” Kaede asked. “Comply with our orders, or else?”

“Until being stabbed and shot isn’t our new normal anymore,” Taka replied. “Then, yes, it is. It’s tough measures like this that may be necessary for survival!”

Kyouko kept going. “This first incident yesterday morning, during the flashback light deployment, was foiled by Junko, Tsumugi disguised as Mahiru, Mukuro, and Izuru, disguised as the fake alias Hajime. It seemed like a rescue. We now know it was just some unknown part of their larger plans. All four of them are now imprisoned, as a result of what we saw in that flashback light.”

_The timing, the content… it’s all exactly what needed to happen. That’s a red flags._

_Red flags don’t mean anything on their own, but if you see a dozen red flags waving majestically in the wind…_

“I can’t believe Hajime would… be that thing you all describe,” Shuichi said. “He’s not just our friend, he was a leader in his class. Whether or not he always enjoyed it, he helped all the wacky personalities find some small degree of focus. We… he helped me out, a lot, and I tried to do my own meager best in return.”

“Serial killers aren’t creeps,” Kyouko said. “Normally. Kiyo’s an outlier. Somebody like ‘Hajime’ was a much better fit for the cover a predator uses, while scoping out prey. Appearing to have strong ties in the community, a good upstanding man, a relationship. All he needed was the house and white picket fence.”

_Is it really that simple?_

_Was all that we had together really just fiction?_

_There’s no way I can simply accept that. Kyouko, you can’t just buy this, either. We’ll have to talk more about it later, away from everyone else._

_We’re the Ultimate Detectives, we can’t afford to take anything on faith._

_Even, and especially, our own memories._

Trying to go at the problem directly was useless, though. Everyone was too harrowed from that experience, they refused to even discuss in in depth. Kyouko had to choice but to roll on.

“To summarize, we now have four classes of prisoners. **D-class** are those taken purely as a precautionary measure. That’s **Tsumugi**. And any others who it may become necessary to detain for security purposes.”

_It really is Lord of the Flies now._

_We don’t even need the Hunt anymore, we’ll just hunt each other._

“ **C-class** prisoners have tried to kill somebody. That’s **Fuyuhiko and Peko**. It’s almost undeniable that they have a body count in the past. They’re hardened criminals. But for our purposes, they’re just not as bad as the rest.”

“We haven’t even locked up _all_ the murderers,” Angie said. “Like Ryoma. Maki, or Mondo!”

 _It was_ your _Truth and Reconciliation that got Mondo to come forward with his big secret, and that’s all you have to say about it?_

“Of course, it hasn’t become apparent that we’d _need_ to put them away. Yet~”

“I strongly suggest you avoid mentioning Mondo in the same breath as those cretins. If I didn’t know what was coming up,” Taka said ruefully, “I’d be annoyed at hearing they ‘just’ tried to kill our friends. That’s already unforgivable. However…”

Kyouko nodded. “ **B-class** prisoners represent a primary danger. **Touko and Kiyo**. And their willing accomplice, **Nagito**. Touko and Kiyo both admit to being serial killers. They are driven by their own sick needs. Nagito is obviously psychotic and dangerous to himself and others. I might want to put all of them in psychiatric care instead, but we don’t have any mental health professionals or facilities on the island.”

“Therapists don’t exist in fiction, anyhow,” Monokuma said.

“Please don’t say such controversial statements…” Usami grumbled.

“Finally, **A-class**. The three members that allegedly made up the triumvirate leading the Ultimate Despair, and later, the Remnants of Despair. **Junko, Mukuro, and Izuru**.”

“Allegedly?” Gundham echoed in concern. “What are you saying?”

Kyouko fixed a glare on Usami. “I’m saying that the only evidence we have for this absurd claim comes from the latest flashback light, which comes in turn from Usami.”

_Well, I thought we’d do this later in private, but okay-_

“Um…” Usami quivered. “Miss Kirigiri, you saw the truth with your own two eyes. I want to state here for the record that the flashback light wasn’t supposed to show you guys that horrible vision. However, it is a hundred percent true, regardless. The flashback lights are tools for therapy, and they cannot be used to fabricate false memories.”

“Can you prove it?” Shuichi asked.

“.... Eh?!”

“Can you prove to us that the flashback lights are reliable?” Shuichi asked. “That they’re not fake? That they can’t be faked? You must have documentation, files. Events this enormous have to-”

“Not yet.”

“Hm?” Shuichi stared.

“I can’t… yet. There will come a time in the rehabilitation program where the truth comes out, of course. However, without laying the proper groundwork…”

“In other words,” Gundam said. “We only have the word of a proven liar, and the equivalent of phantom soul energy, projected onto our eyelids. My Four Dark Devas of Destruction are not particularly convinced.”

It was true. The ham-hams were out, and asleep all over his body in cute places. They weren’t motivated by this story.

Usami sobbed, which nobody found terribly compelling either.

“Y-You’ve already seen the effects of unchecked revelation. Of ‘tearing off the band-aid’, as that hateful Monokuma would say.” Usami shook her head. “I warned you all that sudden recall could have terrible consequences.”

“It’s not like we chose to see that,” Kaede said. “If I had the choice, I’d un-see it.” She paused. “Well, it did take away… that part of me, so… Maybe I’d see it.”

“Oh, it’s not so cut-and-dry, is it,” Monokuma giggled. “ _Pupupu_.”

“Such a terrible bear, causing all this,” Usami bemoaned. “You deserve to die a thousand deaths!”

“I died a lot more than that on Oma- er, Chandler beach,” Monokuma pointed out, still giggling.

Kaito growled. “We ain’t here for your comedy routines!”

Usami sighed. “If you’re all just going to tell me you don’t believe what I say, that’s fine. But it could be very dangerous, with the Ultimate Despair revealed.”

“That’s another issue to bring up.” Kyouko said. “Hajime’s apparent ‘transformation’. One moment, he was as he appeared to be. The person we’ve come to know, our friend. The next, he was… this.”

Kyouko produced a photograph, this time of some kind of specter.

He had long black hair, red eyes, pale skin, and wearing a black business suit. He sat impassively on the floor of his cell, chained up, staring outwards, blank, devoid of emotion. Shuichi only felt vague dread when looking at him, but the others had a more striking reaction.

“That’s him…” Kaede gasped. “Without a doubt! That’s Izuru Kamukura!”

“The one we saw in that nightmare,” Gundham nodded. “It cannot be any other. His baleful, malevolent energy is impossible to mistake. It is far more powerful than any human’s power field…”

“There’s definitely something about him,” Taka nodded. “The way he just stood there, watching Chiaki die. The way he didn’t even lift one finger to help her!”

“He betrayed her, led her along, and let her be killed,” Kyouko said. “According to what we saw. This does seem to match up, and even provide some evidence of Usami’s claims.”

“Then ‘Hajime’ was just some kind of… disguise?” Shuichi said. “Wait, what if the Ultimate Imposter-”

“I know for a fact that he’s unrelated to the case,” Kyouko said. “After we were restored by the flashback light, the actual Ultimate Imposter revealed to me privately. In return, I promised to let him reveal his identity himself, on his own terms.”

“... And you’re going to keep that promise?” Angie asked.

“Yes.”

“Can Atua ask _literally why?”_

Kyouko stared at her. “I’ll only be answering questions from those present.”

Angie stared back, smile as unmoving and frozen as Kyouko’s stoic glare.

Kaito slapped his fists together. “That seals it, then. I’m gonna choose to believe Usami! And I’ll believe in you, too, Kyouko!”

“But Kyouko is questioning Usami,” Shuichi pointed out feebly. “The flashback lights, those wild claims, her secrecy…”

“Don’t matter, Shuichi! Listen up! I’m about to give you all a first-class lesson in how to live.”

There was fire in Kaito’s eyes.

_Oh boy._

“Somebody who trusts can’t be betrayed! You can only be wrong in who you put that trust in. You’re never wrong for giving trust. I’ll put my faith in who I want to! That’s how a man should live!”

_That’s absurd._

_I guess if you didn’t believe things like that, you wouldn’t be the kind of guy that I’d…_

“Bravo! Bravo!” Angie clapped.

“Kaito, that’s…” Kaede sweatdropped.

Kaito shook his head. “On the very first day, when Monokuma came to wreck our shit, he crippled our operations for over a month. It wasn’t the bombs or robots that did it. We beat those, together!”

“Grr…” Monokuma grumbled. “Still sore over that one, but please proceed. _How_ was _I_ so brilliant?~”

“It was one thing you said, you damn bear! About the ‘traitors’. Don’t matter whether it was a lie. We wasted all this time on paranoia! I’m guilty too.”

“Considering what happened,” Taka rubbed his white hair, “Wouldn’t some level of paranoia be justified?”

“Well what did it get us?!” Kaito demanded.

Nobody had an answer.

“It’s not like we stopped shit from happening. It’s not like we prevented _anything!_ It happened regardless. We can try our best, but at the end of the day, we aren’t gonna stop every bad thing! The only way to have total control…” Kaito glanced at Angie. “Is to take away all freedom. So unless we’re prepared to do that, like we did to the prisoners, to make everyone prisoners on this island, ain’t no way to prevent trouble if it’s coming.”

“We tried sneaking around, laying plots, and suspecting others,” Shuichi said. “All it did was discourage cooperation, and create division. If it wasn’t for Angie, I’d be gone. If it wasn’t for Maki, we’d be holding funeral services. Even Junko’s actions were impossible to calculate. What surprised her was information she didn’t have.”

“Are you suggesting that you're mere playthings?!” Gundham demanded. “That agency is void, and you are puppets of fate? A hopeless belief shared by many humans throughout history. Finally learning your place?”

“Of course not!” Kaito bellowed, getting too worked up, given his condition. He was wracked by coughs. “Even my sidekick is going to live life facing forward. Facing the truth. How the fuck can I do any less?! I’ll show the strength of my conviction right here! Usami is our ally, and Monokuma is the enemy. That’s all we need to know!”

_We’re just pulling each other along, because we’d be humiliated to be the ‘dead weight’, huh. I guess even those feelings can be useful, sometimes._

“K-Kaito…” Usami sniffled. “Thank you.”

Kaede sighed. “Usami, I’ll believe you too. I’ll believe there’s a good reason you’re not telling us everything. At the very least, though, you need to understand our position, too. Is Monokuma right? Do you really not care what we think?”

Usami shook her head. “That’s not true at all. I want you all to be happy, and I want to address your concerns. When my programming directives are such subjective things, though, then balancing them becomes a value judgement.”

“ _Dumb_ machines like Usami aren’t good at those,” Monokuma chuckled. “ _Upupu_.”

“Kaito, you’re looking pretty tired,” Taka said. “Everyone, let’s consider what comes next, and take our votes. So we can leave these two guys to get some well-deserved rest.”

Voting was quick, and much less chaotic, when Junko wasn’t involved.

Shuichi had always thought that government ‘should’ be boring. Competent, professional, but not flashy. Doing what needed to be done, without the grandstanding and spectacle.

Well, there was still just a dash of drama from everybody’s favorite Ultimate Animal Breeder. It was more just how he was. Compared to the distressingly normal way he acted under the influence of the Despair Disease, Shuichi vastly preferred this.

“Then we are unanimously agreed,” Gundham nodded. “The fiends will keep, for now. We must determine what to do with them, but only in due course. For now, we will feed and provide for them as basic humanity demands. And permit class D and C prisoners socialization and visits, as managed according to Kyouko’s dark instinct. As well as allowing A and B class to listen to radio broadcasts, but not interact with each other or anyone directly. Limited interviews of type B prisoners may begin in due course.”

It was cruel to hold anybody in solitary confinement.

It could do far more damage than even regular beatings from guards could manage, over the long term. Especially, as Shuichi recalled, for the amount of self-harming behaviors and suicidal thoughts it provoked in prisoners when they were treated in such an inhumane manner.

_Especially when Touko’s already tried to kill herself._

_Before the lunatic took a stab at me and Nagito._

They had to account for the extreme danger posed by Junko’s true Ultimate Analysis talent, though. Izuru Kamukura’s true abilities were unknown, and possibly very potent as well.

_He’s just been limiting himself and acting like he had amnesia this whole time._

_If that’s all true. It’s hard to deny, if he looks like that…_

Next up was the issue of the new islands.

The possibilities presented were too tantalizing. If nothing else, Usami dropping the hint that the buildings may have survived more intact offered the chance for more shelter, facilities… anything to take the mind off what happened.

However, they could improve on the way the explorations went last time, and prevent a repeat of the trouble they had with the army base.

“The blockade of both islands will continue, with the exception of a single recon party apiece,” Taka proclaimed ostentatiously. He had a voice made for proclamations.

“Consisting of both some Black Hats, and those selected by the Council and Security. This mixed force will recon their island, and will never leave each others’ sight! There will never be a time where a single person is alone for any reason, until their entire island has been secured!”

“They’ll even go to the bathroom together,” Kaito said. “... Don’t look at me like that, Kaede! I mean they’ll all wait outside!”

“What are you guys, in first grade?” Monokuma snarked.

Kaede rolled right on past him. “Once both teams return, they’ll present their findings to the group as a whole. So we’re all on the same page, rather than splitting up information or keeping it secret. We can decide how to proceed at that time. Sounds good... Who’s leading each team?”

“Angie volunteers to lead one!” Angie said, raising her hand like an eager schoolgirl. “Perhaps exploring all those tantalizing new Ultimate Labs on **Seventh Island**?~”

“I thought it would be like that,” Kaede said. “Okay, then. I volunteer for team two. To explore **Sixth Island** and the new public facilities. I guess I wouldn’t mind a chance to get out of this hospital for a while. Maybe we’ll even find a new place to stay!”

“ _Upupu_. You guys might like the accommodations being prepared somewhere up ahead, quite a lot. Enough to stay a while...”

"I can promise there won't be more super dangerous things, you guys... love love..."

“If you plushies know already,” Shuichi pointed out, “You could just _tell_ us, and save everyone the trip.”

“That would be lame!” Monokuma snapped. “Usami’s reasoning would be a lot more fancy and invoke the golden rule fourteen times, but that’s all it boils down to. And I agree, by the way! Do some damn footwork yourself and figure it out! It’s a chance to forget all this stress and worry.”

“Stress and worry you directly caused!” Taka reminded him, outraged.

“Tch. You should turn a blind eye to one’s faults!”

“The leaders can start picking out their teams,” Kaito said. “We know that Sonia, Hina, and both Byakuyas are chomping at the bit to get out there after they spent so much time cooped up, but pick from anyone you think’ll be useful. Get the scouting done before sundown so you can see what the hell’s going on. And be careful!”

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” Kaede smirked. “Now, we’re done. Shuichi, Kaito, get some rest. That’s your role in this plan.”

“You’re no good to us half-dead,” Gundham said. “Replenish your power levels before you think to match somebody like me, foolish humans.”

That was the closest Gundham ever got to a tender kiss on the cheek.

Shuichi smiled. “Believe me, if there’s one thing I can do a lot better now, it’s sleep.”

For once, he didn’t feel even slightly guilty about others going out to do the work while he rested.

Quite frankly, Shuichi Saihara had earned a vacation.

Regardless of what all had happened, the real truth of this world was clear to him now.

People could live or die, kill or love.

The world would go on.

 _People_ would go on.

They knew how to do little else.

**-**

**ACT 3: Lambs of God**

**-**


	39. 3-2. The Ultimate Labs VI (Makoto)

As a result of the next progress gate being unlocked, all Hope Pads on the island gained the instant messaging function.

Luckily, everyone who’d been arrested got their surviving property taken.

Much to Kokichi’s annoyance.

Could have been bad.

Even though Makoto was supposed to be getting ready for the mission, he went over to Fourth Island instead.

Kyouko wasn’t answering his messages.

The Brig gave Makoto the creeps. Since the first time he laid eyes on the metal fortress, it clashed. In a land of blue skies, endless sun, and the soft spray of a gentle ocean, a big imposing steel prison had no reason to exist.

_Almost none. I guess even back then, we had our problems._

_Worrying about what Nagito ‘might’ do seems so second-rate, now._

In a blasted wasteland of black dirt, churned-up muddy sand, and bomb craters, things looked different. With a constant blanket of grim stormclouds, and crashing waves spraying aggressively high, the Brig fit right in.

Both that boundless paradise and this war-torn hellscape were fantastical places that Makoto would never feel comfortable in. It was alien from all his life experiences. Even so, if given the choice, he’d go back to that world, that world of buried secrets and real smiles, in a heartbeat.

Reality didn’t have some convenient ‘reset’ command, though.

_This isn’t some third-rate VN where you can just load a save and try a new ‘route’._

The way Tenko was acting really pounded home the oppressive mood. When Makoto approached, she didn’t strike a Neo-Aikido pose and threaten to crush various important things. Instead, she just waved him through the front gate.

“Good morning, Makoto. Business with the Chief?”

“Uh, morning, Tenko. Yep. Everything okay over here?”

“This prison is supposed to be unbreakable,” Tenko replied. “However, we can’t rely on anything anymore. Tenko is warming up, in case she needs to subdue like, seven maniacs. By herself. That’s definitely a thing.”

Makoto scratched his chin nervously and laughed. “I bet you could do it! Akane was saying how cool you are.”

“S-She was?! A girl like Akane said that?!”

Tenko blushed from top to bottom.

Since she was just wearing a blue and green bikini, it was obvious. Along with other things, but Makoto wasn’t looking or anything. Contrary to what Tenko used to yell at him, he was not a degenerate!

“Since she can’t even remember my name, the fact that she told people about you, well.” Makoto shrugged.

It was like how she used to talk about how strong ‘Coach Nekomaru’ was.

_Get well soon, big guy._

Makoto already knew the way to the prison’s control room. It had been upgraded from the last time he visited, when Kokichi stole the key. Now, the monitors were displaying continuous coverage of each… occupied cell.

As Tenko said, there were a lot of those.

The glow from the endless screens was the only thing lighting the darkened office. Monitoring equipment gave the figure sitting at the desk the ability to track anyone in prison. Or out of it. Other parts of the island were wired for surveillance, too. He was most surprised to see a screen that perfectly reflected his own perspective, until he remembered that he was wired, too.

A body cam was Kyouko’s idea of a little insurance policy during the mission.

His girlfriend sat in the middle of this electronic noise, light, and chaos, absorbing information silently. She hadn’t been in here long this time. However, over the last two days, Kyouko had been in here more often than anywhere else. The cameras recorded footage when she was out, and she reviewed it all, while watching the live feeds of each of the prisoners.

**Junko, Mukuro, Hajime, Touko, Peko, Fuyuhiko, Tsumugi.**

And of course, Kiyo and Komaeda. Both handcuffed to hospital beds, under guard.

_The guard is less for them, and more to keep Mondo from beating them to death with his bare hands._

That thought was less funny than Makoto expected, given Mondo had just admitted to killing his own brother. Though nobody could get more out of him, that made it clear. Mondo wasn’t all bark, he was as dangerous as his title suggested.

Makoto could worry about the implications of that later.

Even now, the audio feeds from each cell and room were like a chorus of the damned.

_“Sweet Korekiyo… calm yourself… there’s still time. As long as you’re alive, there still remains some hope. As long as you remain calm…”_

_“I let her out again… I th-thought I could control it… no, h-he betrayed me… b-but did he deserve it? D-D-Did anyone? What’s Master gonna say when he finds out… Shit, shit, shit…”_

_“Upupu. I wonder when Kyouko’s coming over to play again. Last time was so much fun~ I know you can hear me up in there, I’m getting booored! Come onnnn! We cannot wait all day, peasant!”_

Those lunatics could rant all they liked.

His only care at the moment was the woman sitting in the middle of this grim command center, like a mastermind. She didn’t even notice him come in. Despite the fact that his bodycam reflected her screen-lit visage back at her! To be fair, it was buried in countless other screens.

“Kyouko?”

“Hey, Makoto.”

“How’s it… going?”

Kyouko took a moment to consider her reply. “The initial round of interviews were very unproductive. Even for the ones who were willing to talk to me at all, they didn’t say anything very useful.”

“I can’t imagine going in there, in a room, with even one of those guys now,” Makoto said. “Which is insane, since we were just friends, like. A couple of days ago.”

“We thought we were friends,” Kyouko said. “Important distinction. How are you holding up?”

_Is that really all it was?_

_Were none of us really friends with those guys at all?_

_There’s no way I’d ever believe that!_

_Even if it doesn’t seem like I’ve got any choice._

Makoto found the screen showing Sayaka’s hospital room. She was as beautiful as ever, even in a hospital gown and wrapped in bandages. The way she slept so peacefully, nobody would suspect how much pain she’d gone through. It wasn’t the kind of thing that would be immediately obvious.

_Sayaka would probably tell me I’m being naive to even try to reach out to them. Any of them, forget the bastard who shot her. But after this mission, I’ve gotta try._

_Somehow._

Makoto had just come from their girlfriend’s hospital room, so he could update Kyouko on the situation. “Sayaka’s gonna be okay. Mikan confirmed it. Uh, before falling over. She got the bullet out and. I mean, you’ve been watching. Have you, uh, been watching since the surgery?”

“Probably.”

Makoto frowned. “Kyouko, I’m not sure this place is good for you.”

Kyouko didn’t try to deny it. “Somebody has to find the truth.”

“At least let me help.”

“You want to... help?”

“When I get back from Seventh Island, lemme take this in shifts with you. I mean, if you think I’ll be any help. I just don’t want you to sit here all the time and let this take over your life. Plus, if there’s interrogations or whatever to do, I can, like, be there with you. Moral support?”

Kyouko sighed. “Shuichi offered to be my partner, too. Look what happened to him.”

“That’s not gonna happen to me,” Makoto said. “I promise, if I notice anything or stuff goes wrong, I’ll hit that alarm so fast your head will spin. Come on, Kyouko. We weren’t able to stop Nagito, before it was too late. I just want to do something.”

“Find out what’s on that island,” Kyouko said. “And we’ll talk. Thank you, though. That’s very sweet of you, as usual. It’s nice to have the sweet Makoto back.”

Makoto took a hopeful step forward, but Kyouko held up a gloved hand.

“I need some space for a while. Is that… okay?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Totally fine. Everyone’s gonna react to all this craziness differently. Just promise me you won’t spend all your ‘alone time’ in the freaking Bat Cave, okay? Get out and walk, I don’t know. there’s gotta be a lot of places you could be alone.”

_Considering how few of us can get up and just walk around whenever we feel like it anymore._

_So many islands, so few of us._

“I’ll be okay,” Kyouko promised. “I’ll get up and do other things, I’ll take breaks. I know how to look after myself, Makoto. Thanks to the cameras, I can look after you, too.”

It’s like Makoto had a little guardian angel on his shoulder.

_That means I need to not-look harder than ever at, like, Angie and her followers. Because Kyouko will know otherwise. Oh boy. I don’t want any misunderstandings._

As if he’d be tempted by anything, including Heaven itself. Just being with either Sayaka or Kyouko was more than a guy like him could dream of deserving.

Not to even think about both of them giving him the time of day.

Or other things.

_Beep, beep, beep._

Urgent messages from the team had the Hope Pad dancing in Makoto’s hoodie pocket. “Oh hey. Duty calls,” Makoto said, fumbling with the messager to assure his team he was coming right over.

“I’ll be watching from here. Good luck.”

“That’s why I’m here!”

Makoto knocked on the wooden desk, then took off.

_How can I say I’ll believe in everyone if I can’t even trust Kyouko? I’ve gotta believe in her most of all. She’ll be fine, even with everything that’s happened. Sayaka, too. She’s healing, she’s probably survived worse than an actual gunshot before. Both of them went through something unspeakable._

_I’m still moving forward, and they’re both a lot stronger than me._

Makoto was the last to arrive at Central Island.

By that time, both teams were assembled. It was just as a scribbled note from Kyouko said.

 **_Kaede, Imposter, Sakura, Mondo, Hina, Maki, Ishimaru - Sixth Island_ **  
**_Angie, Miu, Makoto, Byakuya, Sonia, Gundham, Kirumi - Seventh Island_ **

It was a mishmash, but that was sort of the idea. At least with that many people, they could get themselves out of trouble, or call for backup with the new messagers.

“Good luck, everyone!” Kaede clapped her hands together. “Remember, stay in touch.”

“Gonta will be ready in case you guys call for help!” Gonta declared. “Gonta won’t let anybody else get hurt, even if Gonta have to sacrifice life!”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Makoto said, laughing awkwardly.

“But if it does,” Miu quickly clarified, “And the shit goes down, Gonta? Come save me first. Save all these other fucking idiots only after I’m safe.”

“Okay! Gonta understand!”

“Big fella, Miu’s ramblings ain’t something you should _understand_ ,” Mondo sighed. “Just don’t pay attention to her.”

“Well said, Bro!” Taka nodded, turning out the collar on his matching white jacket. “Gonta, pay no attention to that vulgar woman. Her ill-mannered jokes are not appreciated so soon after real tragedies.”

“Okay, sir. Gonta won’t listen to Miu no more!”

“Mmmmh…” Miu shuddered in shameless arousal. “G-Gettin’ triple teamed by big, burly guys… it’s not so bad…”

“You’re certain that you won’t trade?” Byakuya asked his fatter counterpart.

Who just looked over at Miu as she trembled, blushed, and sweated. “Quite certain. Have fun, ‘brother’.”

Angie glanced up towards Sakura, the largest part of her team by far. “I think we’ll be fine. But you never know. It’s possible some dastardly trap has been set up for us!”

“Hey! I resemble that remark!”

_Bwoing._

Monokuma popped up, followed a moment later by Usami.

“Kids these days. So paranoid. You guys always feel like the world’s falling apart, just because we older types… kinda… ruined it…” He looked around at the bomb craters. “Look, that’s not the point! A good story needs highs and lows, right? We just had a lot of emotional highs, so we need some breather chapters to recover!”

“I told you to stop talking about things like that,” Usami said. “You’re gonna give everyone the wrong impression, in various ways…”

“In fact, we’re coming along with your exploring teams!” Monokuma said.

“When was this decided?!” Usami demanded.

“It definitely wasn’t a decision we agreed to,” Kaede put her hands on her hips. “Usami’s alright, but why would we travel with _you_ , Monokuma?”

“Because you can’t stop me!”

 _**A fireball flew in out of nowhere, and** _ **obliterated** _**Monokuma.** _

His internal bomb reacted with the fire, boosting the size of the explosion and flooring anyone nearby.

Like Makoto.

His ears were still ringing when Himiko arrived, glaring at the copy that arrived to replace Monokuma.

**“Wanna bet?”**

“How the _hell_ did you do you that, you little loli?! Didn’t your powers go away when the Despair Disease was wiped out?!”

“Who said I needed that dumb disease to use my own magic, anyhow?” Himiko asked.

_“That doesn’t make any sense!”_

“Maybe the real magic was the friends we made along the way,” Hina pondered, face scrunched up, deep in thought.

“That- Okay, look! _It really fucking hurts_ when you blow me up with a fireball!”

“Clearly not enough,” Usami said.

“ _You_ …! I know you’ve got _something_ to do with this midget magician-”

_**Boom!** _

“He’ll learn manners yet,” Angie said. “Just gotta give people time to come around to your way of thinking.”

“... A deal. Okay, a deal. Truce, god fucking damnit.” Monokuma crawled out of the sea, looking waterlogged and fatigued by the effort. “If you let me come along with your group, Angie, I’ll reveal a clue that Usami tried to hide on Sixth Island. When the time comes.”

“That…!” Usami recoiled in shock.

“Okay!” Angie clapped. “Angie consents. Usami, you should go with Kaede’s group, since you’re best buddies!”

Kaede had made a big deal about trusting Usami, or at least not considering her their enemy yet. She could hardly decline the offer.

“However, I can’t let Monokuma do as he pleases! We can both just go with both teams, anyhow! We do have uh, a few spares,” Usami said.

So it was decided, more or less without the students’ consent.

The mascots would both accompany both teams.

Lucky them.

Seventh Island was like the other two housing Ultimate Labs.

There wasn’t some grand theme or design to it. It was just a more or less square plot of land in the sea. According to the map, the undiscovered locations representing Labs were dotted around in a ring, following a path that would take somebody fully around the outside perimeter of the island. The real distinguishing feature was a big mountain in the middle, clearly visible from everywhere.

Well, it had to be a small mountain as far as those went. Since the group could walk around its base in less than like, a day.

There were, like last time, supposed to be eleven Ultimate Labs.

“As I’ve said before,” Usami sobbed, “I wasn’t lying! Mister Kuzuryuu just decided to conceal that his Lab was on the second floor of Miss Pekoyama’s!”

“Indeed.” Byakuya shook his head. “And why, exactly, did they _fail_ to mention that to us? In fact, why were their Labs constructed in that manner to begin with? It’s clearly suspicious.”

“Uu…. until they feel like telling you all, that kind of private information is…”

“The fuck did you even bother _coming_ if you won’t answer us, you jackass rabbit?!” Miu glared daggers at Usami. “Especially since you couldn’t actually come. Or maybe white stuffing would come out… Watcha think, Ballsack?!”

Since focusing his boiling rage and fury onto her hadn’t worked, Byakuya decided to act like Miu didn’t exist. He merely grit his teeth, and led the group forward. Angie was supposed to be the leader, but she voiced no protest as Byakuya’s forceful personality overrode everything.

Miu protested, though. “I asked you a question, Bruce Wayne! Did you hear me?!”

He didn’t reply, and Miu panicked instantly.

“H-Hey… was it something I said?!”

_I always thought you were acting this way on purpose, Miu. But do you really not get that your attitude, uh, puts people off? A lot?_

The very first building they encountered, moving counterclockwise from the bridge, looked like a Christian church. It was only on drawing close that it was revealed to be a grand studio. Made out of stone, and featuring stained-glass windows. It was stunning enough to see a building untouched from the war, but the scale of this made Makoto feel small.

A humble wooden studio belonging to the Ultimate Artist was stuck on the second floor, with the bottom floor being dedicated to art supplies of all types. No pews or altar, just tons of ink, cans of paint stacked by the hundreds in an eye-melting rainbow of colors, rock suitable for chiseling, fire-kilns and clay…

Makoto didn’t even recognize half of the stuff in there.

Angie did. Her eyes lit up the more they explored, like a kid in a candy store.

“How on-the-nose,” Byakuya remarked to Usami. “At least you tagging along has one upside. I can give you my critique firsthand. This one gets a C+ for effort, despite the lack of originality, rabbit.”

Angie was swept up in her world of art.

She scarcely took note of the team she was leading. While Byakuya searched every wall and the floor for secret passages, everyone else milled around in varying stages of awe.

“This is just like the churches in my country!” Sonia proclaimed, delighted. “It often feels as though one cannot walk ten paces from one church before hitting another.”

“I’m afraid that is merely the nature of humanity, princess.” Gundham smirked. “Seeking comfort in the idea of an all-loving god, in spite of all the evidence in this world to the contrary.”

“This guy’s got the right idea,” Monokuma said.

Angie paid no heed.

“It’s been so long. Angie was wracked with agony over this. Over not being able to practice her art to its full power. Now, it’s appeared before her! The faithful are being rewarded! Starting with Angie, since I’m the most faithful~ Ahem.”

“Congratulations,” Sonia said. “Even in these troubling times, it appears your Lab has survived intact.”

“Not a scratch on it,” Byakuya said. “Very interesting, don’t you think, Kirumi?”

“A fortunate turn of events, indeed, Master Togami.”

“If that’s all it was, indeed.”

Angie sighed. “Angie would be happy staying here and preparing for the work ahead, but you’d all probably get mad. So, let’s finish exploring the rest, and prove there’s nothing dangerous on this island!”

She cast more than one longing gaze backwards as they walked down the road.

Unlike in Novoselic, another church didn’t come right into view ahead, although something else did.

They’d arrived at musical nirvana, and forgot to bring any of their musicians along.

Ibuki Mioda’s Ultimate Lab had a few surprises, but the basic design was anything but. The very image conjured up by the punk-rock schoolgirl look she wore, even into adulthood, had been translated into a grunge musical club that even Makoto could look at and go ‘that’s alternative’. Graffiti, which presumably had no artist except the Exisals, adorned the brickwork outside.

Inside, the facade fell away, and the place was barren. Stark. Industrial, even. The adornments outside concealed that this was a standard factory-type building inside. A stage had been made out of stopped assembly lines and larger machines. There was a space in front for a crowd to gather. It filled the functions expected of a concert venue.

It was just a stark and barren way to do it. Not at all what anybody would expect from Ibuki.

“Guess the druggie’s got issues,” Miu said, demonstrating that yes, to some degree, she truly just didn’t have self-awareness of any kind. “Given how slutty she is, we shoulda known even before she admitted to slicing herself like a cut of beef!”

 _That_ was the last straw.

Sonia marched up to Miu, and smacked her across the face. Hard enough to send the Ultimate Inventor reeling.

Everyone was so astonished by that, they didn’t go in to break it up until Miu was about to hit back.

“Whoa!” Makoto nearly got decked instead for his trouble, and had to avoid falling into the endless expanse of Miu’s chest too. Given the heights, things were just awkward. “W-What are you guys doing?!”

“Ask the Queen Bitch that!” Miu said. “W-Why’d you hit me? … C-Can you do it again…?”

“You will _not_ speak that way of our friend,” Sonia instructed her, firmly, in the tone she reserved for regal commands. “Her issues are not fodder for ill-considered jokes. I shall not like to ever hear you speak of it again in such a flippant manner. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, M-Mistress…”

“Good girl.”

Sonia pet Miu, who went from enraged to drooling in the blink of an eye.

Everyone else could do little but stare at this reversal.

Except for Gundham. “... Princess, is there something else in your life that I should be informed of? It is not enough that the fool Kazuichi has wormed a place into your company through sheer determination. But now, this whore of babylon…”

Without a word, Makoto moved on.

The surprising part was that when he started walking, everyone else followed, instead of somebody grabbing him back. In fact, normally he’d have been enlisted for those antics.

_Are people giving me space, too? Do I need that space?_

The most insidious thing about grief and stress was the way it snuck up on a person, like a frog being boiled alive. Makoto felt like he was running alright, and handling things well, until he recognized that he was barely holding it together.

He just had to hope the sights and sounds of this new island could offer some distraction.

“Yeah, no doubt. Kaede should have taken this island,” Angie admitted.

_It’s like a Culture Festival, just with nobody around. Like on all the other islands, we’re the only people here._

_I guess in our state, we aren’t really fit to run into strangers anyhow._

Angie wasn’t wrong. The Ultimate Pianist’s Lab unfolded before them. In fact, the building itself was shaped like a grand piano, in an example of far more literal theming than usual. With a black exterior so dramatically shaped, it was hard to predict what the insides looked like.

Less out-there, at least. Wooden floors shone with a fresh polish, recently constructed. There was little damage to the area. Just some shattered glass from windows and a fish tank full of gravel. Countless rows of old style turntable records contained classical music of every time period and famous composer.

There were a ton of names that Makoto just didn’t recognize.

He still couldn’t help sitting down and noodling on the grand piano that formed the centerpiece of the entire lab.

Everyone got it into their heads as kids, that playing the piano was as easy as hitting the keys in a way that vaguely ‘sounded nice’.

Not so much.

“Compared to what Kaede did even on what she considered ‘baby equipment’ during the Ultimate Festival, this is pathetic.” Makoto found himself talking to the camera mounted on him. He knew Kyouko could hear, even if she couldn’t reply through the same way. “Wow, the Festival. That’s like a lifetime ago. It’s like another world to think about that now.”

Byakuya shook his head. “Such a simple, straightforward lab, for an all too simple girl. Come along, everyone. There’s far more to do here.”

Makoto made sure to fire off a report on their findings to Kaede herself, and ask for her own status.

 _> That’s amazing! I can finally teach you guys what real music is all about._  
_> Free hint, you’re going to learn about a lot of dead white guys._  
_> Heck, I could hold a concert for everyone! ^.^_  
_> As for us? We’re going to Disneyland._  
_> There’s an amusement park here. Some parts of it are apparently off-limits._  
_> Even to the stuffed animals. That’s big, if true. I’ll follow up later._

Kokichi’s Ultimate Lab was perfect for him.

It made no sense.  
\  
It was a confusing, vaguely ominous mishmash mess. It suggested at once darker plots and larger, world-shaping conspiracies, and a childish, playful imagination that hinted the whole thing was a joke. It was right out of a movie of an evil mastermind lair. Straight on down to the raised throne commanding the center of the room.

It wasn’t even a building in the traditional sense. It was an actual ‘secret base’ carved into the side of a steep cliff. The group nearly passed right over it, and would have just kept walking if there wasn’t a convenient signpost out front.

“I do not wish to criticize,” Sonia said, “However. Doesn’t putting a helpful sign up ruin the point of a ‘secret evil base’?”

“We certainly wouldn’t do that if we were to- Ahem. If _I_ were to make an evil lair.” Gundham corrected himself pretty quick there, but Sonia still caught on, and her eyes lit up.

“Then surely, we must see what this place has to offer! Perhaps you can find some inspiration, good sir.”

Naturally, Makoto had to come along while Sonia explored. Ever since the Instant Coffee Gift, an event fit to go down in history alongside Japan’s other great foreign policy actions, he was near the top of her Friendship List. Not like it was bad to be friends with a friendly foreign princess.

The interior was panelled in smooth glass, steel, and rock walls similarly smoothed to a mirror sheen. Save for jutting stalactites. Or stalagmites?

… Which were the ones that hung down?

“Now that I look at it more closely,” Makoto said, “ _This_ is more like the Bat Cave than an ‘evil lair’. Or Kyouko's setup.”

“I did my best,” Usami said, growing defensive when every new discovery came with banter and chatter from the students. She was in arm’s reach in a way she’d never placed herself before, and the Ultimates were enjoying that. Usami clearly wasn’t. If nothing else, that showed she was serious about not letting Monokuma’s influence run unchecked.

Anymore.

Better late than never?

_> Maybe this design isn’t an accident on Usami’s part._

Makoto was surprised, and glad, to get a message from Kyouko. That confirmed the cam was still working, and she was watching over them. More than that, he’d take any chance to talk with the enigma wrapped in a mystery he’d proclaimed his love for.

_< Is getting the perspective that comes with being an outsider really worth having everyone suspect you, though?_

_> No. It’s like I’ve said before. A rebel who says ‘authority is always wrong’ is every bit as dangerous as a true believer who says ‘authority is always right’. They’re committing exactly the same sin._

_< Maybe he just wants an excuse to be a jerk but feel like he’s really Batman? That could be the theme of the room._

_> Possibly._

The clue that Monokuma promised (and that sounded very legit) hadn’t materialized yet, even though they’d walked a while and explored outlandish places.

“Give it time,” Monokuma said. “I’ve worked hard to hide it, and I don’t think it’ll ever be found.”

Kirumi frowned. “If that’s the case, then why leave a clue at all?”

“Oh, you bastards can find it easily! Just use the good old Mk. I Eyeball. I was talking about how it was totally hidden from Slowpoke Usami.”

Byakuya glanced over at the stuffed rabbit. “Is that possible? For Monokuma to hide something in a way that you can’t find? I thought you had ‘all the power’ thanks to that toy you clutch so dearly.”

“... If he managed to blind my Violence Sensors,” Usami admitted, sweating a lot, “It’s possible that his tampering with the island’s systems goes even deeper. However, it’s nothing I won’t be able to correct, with time.”

“Shame you don’t have time,” Monokuma said. “You won’t be able to see this heart-rending clue until the students do! Then you’ll have to decide whether it’s better for them to know, or not-know. And you’ll have to decide how far you’re willing to go to stop them!”

_Oh. That’s why Usami and Monokuma came along._

_This motive isn’t for us. It’s a motive for Usami to do… something? To try and keep something from us? Or to do something with her power?_

_I don’t like the sound of that, but we have no choice but to get that clue._

Makoto didn’t think it was possible to top the last Ultimate Lab.

He was dead wrong.

“Who’s… the Ultimate Analyst?” Makoto asked, pointing to the sign out front. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t just forget somebody with that talent, right?”

“I dunno, memory loss seems to be going around these days,” Monokuma said.

“I believe that is the actual talent of Miss Junko Enoshima,” Kirumi explained. “As revealed by her sister to Mistress Kyouko and Master Shuichi. That turned out to be a foolish move, since when they were both revealed, we knew to take decisive action. From what I was given to understand, Junko merely took up the title of Ultimate Fashionista as a ‘side job’.”

_Somebody who can have an Ultimate-level ability ‘on the side’, or to cover up their real ability or whatever… They’re on a level way above anything I could understand._

That was fitting for Junko, then. Makoto never got her, even before she’d gone crazy.

_Hang on, no. She was supposed to be… like that, from the moment we met, right?_

It didn’t matter how often Makoto told himself that, he just couldn’t believe it. Any more than he could believe Hajime had been lying to them all this time. That it had all just been some cover up.

He couldn’t believe it, and he wouldn’t.

Not without a lot more proof than he’d seen.

Then again, since he’d had the Despair Disease, of course, he’d been one of those lucky people who saw… that.

Who saw Junko, cackling as she sent Chiaki to a brutal, horrifying death.

More than seeing it, Makoto had _lived_ it.

For all intents and purpose, the flashback light mixup had given him the personal experience of what it was like to be murdered. Each stab of a spear, each slice of a spinning disk, it was all…

Makoto shivered, hugging himself.

 _It’s hard to imagine anything more convincing than living that experience out yourself. It feels like I was there. It feels like that was me down there. Heck, if that ‘previous killing game’ stuff is right, that very well could have_ been _me!_

For others, that was enough. Conclusive evidence. A reason to hate and fear these enemies, and stand up against them, and never forgive them. Makoto, however, wasn’t going to give up on them or cut them off.

Not until he could understand this messed-up, crazy situation.

_I can say that, I can talk all I want about how everyone deserves a second chance. Or that nobody should be given up on. But if I came face-to-face with those guys…. Could I really forgive them?_

_Should that even be possible, after what they’ve done?_

_To both Kyouko and Sayaka... To everyone who was gonna get killed!_

Makoto believed all his life that everyone deserved forgiveness. No matter what they’d done. As long as they’d take it, which was the sticking point. Touko went back to being a sobbing, self-hating wreck in the Brig, and had apologized to Kyouko and expressed regret.

She was the only prisoner to do that, though. All the others displayed a mix of sullen hostility. In Tsumugi’s case, just plain and simple indignation that she’d been locked up at all.

_That’s one I didn’t agree with. I can’t say how deep her loyalty to Junko was before this. But now I’m certain that we’ve made ourselves another enemy._

_We don’t need more of those._

_The world’s already against us._

Hopefully, this building will shed some light on the situation. There’s no choice but to check it out, regardless of what we find!

As fitting Junko’s dual nature, the exterior was a fashionable, upscale club. The inside, though, looked like a physics lab. In fact, it looked like a research area straight out of a manga! There was even a huge machine humming away in the center of the huge chamber, surrounded by computer workstations and just, machines. Just, Science Stuff that Makoto had no hope to identify.

While the outside was so pink it hurt, the inside was as sterile and lifeless as the hospital’s spotless floors and bright white everything.

Junko’s lab wasn’t just black and white, devoid of a depth of color or warm human touches. Anyone who entered it felt themselves chilled to the bone.

When they looked around, they could only see in black and white.

Color had been completely drained from the world.

Makoto tested the effect by going in and out the front door, and it was striking. When he was outside, he could see colors just like normal. Inside, though, something just removed that part of light, or something.

“What’s doing that?” Makoto wondered. “Kyouko, are you seeing this too? Am I just finally losing it?”

_> I see it, too. Whatever’s going on is affecting the camera. Please move closer to that large central machine, but be careful. If you feel weird, get out quickly._

Before Makoto could go up and touch the huge rumbling beast of a machine, Miu grabbed him by the ear. “We noticed that already, dickweed. Get over here, we found the real shit!”

“Ow! What could be more ‘real’ then something that like, bends reality… oh.”

One of the laptops in Junko’s lab was on, and it was displaying a file.

_Just like Electric Avenue…!_

Byakuya shoved others out of the way so that he could be the one to read. “Fascinating. The only file on this computer is labelled ‘ **The Biggest, Most Tragic, Most Awful Event in Human History** ‘.”

“There’s a mouthful,” Miu said. “And I’d know-”

“Shut up,” Byakuya snapped.

Usami flailed her arms. “Everyone, whatever you do, you can’t read that yet-”

“You shut up, too!”

“Uu….”

The contents of this file were absurd. They were shocking.

If they hadn’t been dealing with the Ultimate Hunt since forever, Makoto would have written off this stuff as fiction.

“The Ultimate Hunt was merely one part of the doomsday cult known as **Ultimate Despair** ,” Byakuya read, voice dispassionate despite how focused he was. “A group whose motto is well-known as _'mankind deserves damnation'._ This movement gained traction first at Hope’s Peak Academy, which was the source of the incident. Although it would eventually spread to the entire world, the **Reserve Department** was the start of the Troubles.”

_The Reserve Department? That part of the college they opened up to anyone who could pay the massive fees? Even if they didn’t have an Ultimate level ability?_

_I thought that’s where I was going when they told me about the lottery. Not that my family would have been able to afford it, of course._

“It’s more accurate to say that the incident was born from the greatest sin of the Academy,” Byakuya continued. “The worldwide riots and terrorism had a million causes. There was no ‘single trigger event’. Thus, there was no easy way to have avoided this confluence. Even so, if the **Izuru Kamukura Project** had not gone forward, then the Ultimate Despair couldn’t have used it to spark the massive outrage causing the riot of the Reserve Course.”

“I-Izuru Kamukura project?!” Sonia gasped. “That’s…”

“I have never heard of such a thing,” Gundham said. “That is part of why the revelation about that traitor Hajime stung so badly. A dark overlord of the multiverse such as myself should have at least seen _that_ much coming…”

“In their quest to cultivate talent at all costs, Hope’s Peak took a willing volunteer from the talentless Reserve Course. **Hajime Hinata** was experimented on extensively, until they had replaced much of his brain with alterations focused on talent. Through this, they created a being that was loved by talent itself, of godlike ability… but who was, sadly, no longer capable of love, kindness, or joy.”

“They… did that to Hajime?” Makoto shook his head. “Hope’s Peak Academy was involved in an experiment like that? In messing with somebody’s brain?!”

“He volunteered for that?” Angie pouted. “Atua can hardly believe it’s that simple. Who would just volunteer for this kind of thing? It sounds super unpleasant.”

Byakuya went ‘tsk, tsk’.

“You of all people should understand why Hajime signed up for that procedure, Makoto.”

Makoto blinked. “Me? You’ve gotta be kidding. That’s nuts!”

Byakuya rarely joked around. Lack of humor was one of his bad qualities overall. When he did indulge in jokes, they were mean-spirited. “To be a common peasant in this world is an existence worse than death. I’m sure we’ve talked about this before. If it meant avoiding that fate, if it meant that a man could raise himself up so that he mattered, how far do you think that man would go?”

Sonia glared at Byakuya. She looked ready to smack him, too. Except that she was certain he’d hit her right back just as hard.

Makoto was getting to the point where he’d consider taking that risk-

_I can't believe Hope's Peak would participate in that kind of project. That'd not just messed up, it's evil! To do that to somebody, for the sake of 'talent'... it's no better than what Nagito did, for the sake of his 'hope'! You can't throw human lives away so easily._

“It’s not that I don’t agree,” Miu said. “I mean, normal people _are_ fucking useless. Mostly. Except for fucking. That’s like all they do to contribute to the world, heh. B-But, can we focus on the goddamn life-altering revelation thing sitting right in front of us? Look, there’s more file down there.”

Kirumi hadn’t said a word about this. She just stared, as astonished as everyone else. More so, even. She turned pale. Makoto glanced over. “Kirumi? Are you… okay?”

“Forgive my display of emotion, Master Naegi. I just cannot believe that such a wide-scale event truly happened. I’ve been trying not to think of it since those first revelations, but.. What has become of our homeland? Since the beginning of this outbreak of ‘worldwide riots’?”

_Crap, she’s right._

_Komaru, please be okay. Wherever you are, please be okay._

_Mom, dad…_

Panic was infectious.

Maybe that’s why Angie did what she did.

Which was to snatch the laptop right out from under Byakuya, as he went on to read about **“the meteors”** or something. “Hey! What exactly do you think that you’re-”

In front of the stunned gathering, Angie pulled out a wooden mallet she’d gotten from her own Lab.

She _smashed_ the laptop with a heavy blow that shattered the screen!

The second one broke through to the internals, smashing circuits and cables inside.

She never managed a third swing, because Byakuya was at her throat.

Literally.

He pinned her to the nearest wall by her throat. _“What have you done?!”_ The outraged heir roared. “Angie Yonaga, are you one of _them?!_ Have you been working for the enemy this whole time? Just waiting for this chance…”

Angie shook her head. “No way! Angie just couldn’t let this go on any longer. Atua told her that something terrible would happen.”

“Mister Byakuya… violence is against the rules, and doing that to a girl is especially…”

Usami was useful as always.

Makoto had to be the one to go up to the enraged man, who was a lot taller, and say, “Byakuya, ease up.”

Under normal circumstances, trying to tell Byakuya what to do would have earned Makoto a look of scorn. Or maybe he’d spit in the smaller boy’s face for having the ‘arrogance’. Right now, though, Byakuya took a deep breath, and went from ‘choking Angie’ to merely holding her.

“Kirumi, put this lunatic under arrest!”

Kirumi glanced over at Gundham, who nodded solemnly. “Do it.”

“Come on, guys,” Monokuma giggled to himself. “Don’t fight over little old me!”

Makoto stared. “... Over you? What?!”

“You all didn’t put that together?” Monokuma’s giggling escalated to full-throated, joyless malicious mirth. “Ahahahaha! You morons. These ‘clues’ you found each time, like this one? I left them, duh! That’s why Usami was getting rid of them!”

Sonia shook her head. “That... is impossible. You were defeated!”

“... It’s true, though,” Usami admitted.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Your Royal Clueless Majesty, killing me doesn’t do shit! No matter how many times you try it.” Monokuma smirked, tilting his head to the side. “You could kill these adorable, and highly marketable, forms from now until the inevitable death of the entire human race, and be no closer to stopping me.”

“Kyouko, you’re Head of Security,” Makoto said. “Angie… she stopped us from reading any further. But on the other hand, Monokuma was the one who’s been leaving these messages…”

_> Just because Monokuma says something, that doesn’t mean it has no value._

“... I mean, like, yeah…” Makoto sighed. “It’s just a really strong clue that we shouldn’t trust it. If Angie got the same kind of ‘feeling’ that led to you getting saved...”

Everyone looked at Makoto very strangely before he pointed out his body-cam.

 _> It wasn’t Angie’s decision to make. Or Atua’s. As others have pointed out, she lost the election. _  
_> Yet she decided on her own to smash that clue. _  
_> The very least you need to do is prevent any further damage._

“Uh, Kyouko says to arrest her, too,” Makoto said. He conveyed that message, even if he himself didn’t agree with it.

Kirumi, having been drafted into Security, had handcuffs on hand.

And was distressingly skillful at applying them properly, considering she was a maid.

Angie wasn’t outraged to be put under close arrest. In fact, she was infected with Monokuma’s giggles. “Come on, that tickles. That cold steel against my skin… at least tie me up instead, Kirumi!”

“My deepest apologies, Mistress Yonaga,” Kirumi replied. “I do not have sufficient rope.”

“Aw. I guess this is okay, then.”

“Okay?!” Miu shared Byakuya’s outrage, marking the second time they’d ever agreed on anything. They looked down on the ‘common man’, and they really wanted to read the rest of that file. “Kooky bitch! God damnit! At least now, you’ve finally gone way too far. Even the fucking brain-trust Council ain’t gonna let you get by with this!”

“I have contacted Kaede and that foolish hall monitor,” Gundham said. “We have agreed, unanimously, to remove Angie from the mission. Kirumi, take her back to Central Island and wait there. We will decide how to handle this later.”

“Wait, so Kirumi has to go, too?” Makoto said.

“It’s alright,” Kirumi assured him. “I’m sure I wouldn’t be any help to you all, anyway. I’m just a maid. If this is a Request from the Council, then there’s no way I can ignore it. Especially now, we all must do whatever we can, for Everyone’s sake.”

“Well, uh. Angie, aren’t you gonna… get angry? You’re getting kicked out!”

“This is just a minor misunderstanding.” Angie shrugged. “They can’t hold me anyhow. Not for very long, once everyone learns that Monokuma’s the one that’s been leaving these tricky ‘clues’. Not without things getting suuper bad, and they’re not stupid. So it’s really no biggie. Don’t worry, Makoto.”

“I w-wasn’t worried about you! You really should have talked with us before doing this kind of thing. Even if you suspected it, I mean… That’s a big step to take on your own!”

Angie stared in confusion. “... Why? Angie is Atua’s prophet. Haven’t you seen now with your own eyes how wonderful his mercy can be, Makoto? Or would you rather we _didn’t_ find Kyouko until it was too late-”

Makoto tensed up.

“That’s quite enough,” Byakuya gritted his teeth. “Take the midget away, before I lose the last specks of my patience and send her back to the god she so loves.”

Once Angie was gone, Makoto sighed.

“I thought we were gonna get along. She’s friends with Shuichi again, so...”

“Angie feels she is doing what is best for the group,” Sonia said. “However, if everyone does as they please without regards for the effects, even she won’t like the end result.”

“Monokuma, if it’s true that you were providing these hints, then to what end?!” Gundham demanded. “And can you tell us the rest of what was on that file? Speak, demon! Before I cast you down in fire!”

“Actually, just like how there’s a few areas I can’t go, there’s a few files I can’t access. I gave you guys access via that terminal, but with it all smashed up, well.” Monokuma shrugged. “I guess Usami wins, and you all get to stay in the dark on the way this all connects.”

“Connects?” Makoto echoed.

“To the **meteors** , of course.”

The Ultimates had gotten visions of those for some time now. Those meteors destroying cities. Visions of apocalyptic destruction. Nobody knew how that could possibly relate to all the stuff about social unrest, the Hunt, the previous Killing Game…

Or how it was possible at all. That sort of stuff was only in movies, right?

“Patience,” Usami said. “Have patience. It’s part of the rehabilitation program that all will be revealed. But only in the order that I approve, to avoid any more… incidents. Know always that my goal is to prevent your suffering. Monokuma’s is only to cause despair.”

“I do other things on the side,” Monokuma protested. “In fact, I’ve had a ton of jobs. Construction worker, cannon fodder, movie producer, shinto priest, helicopter pilot, baseball player, judge, jury, executioner, game mascot, homophobe…”

“Is that last one a job?” Sonia wondered in amazement.

“Clown around all you like,” Byakuya grumbled. “And deflect all you like, and tell us to ‘trust you’ all you like, Usami. That won’t make it happen. If you won’t tell us what we need to know, right now, then you’re still the enemy we’ll fight to overcome.”

It wasn’t like anybody decided to follow Byakuya deliberately. They just found it hard to go against him when he was so worked up. His commanding presence was, in some ways, just as strong as Angie’s. It was just more direct.

There was nothing to do.

Without Junko or Usami explaining what was going on, a lot of Junko’s lab was a mystery.

They had to move on. The group wanted to finish the initial survey by sunset.

Not that dawn or dusk mattered much when the clouds never let up.

Almost all of the Ultimate Labs had been separate buildings. Not so for the next four. All of which were discovered cobbled together in a huge four-pod cluster in the same spot. In the midst of a gentle, grassy valley.

The Labs of the Ultimate Robot, Programmer, Mechanic, and Inventor were all stacked together and connected by walkways in a large technical compound. It was made of glowing sci-fi metal, etched with lights and circuitry patterns, as well as oil and grease stains-

“Holy. Fucking. Shit.”

Miu was the only one of the Tech Trio present, but her enthusiasm more than made up for the lack of Kazuichi and Chihiro. She sprinted forward immediately like a pink blur.

“Miu, wait!” Makoto yelled. “There might be something dangerous… oh, whatever.”

The group picked up the pace and followed her into the sliding glass double-doors at the front of the tech complex.

It was like stepping into the future.

The architecture stopped making sense, or looking like people actually lived there, like in a lot of sci-fi. Blinding white metal and black components and circuitry surrounded them. Each of the four Ultimate Labs had a side of the facility and their own building, though they were all connected. Each one also had some distinct decor and lighting.

Miu’s was the obvious first choice. So much pink.

After the flashback light, Makoto had been put off pink things a little, but there was no choice but to plunge right in. Miu left them no other options.

Her lab was strewn about with machines. A giant mountain of functional inventions, alongside scrap metal and old junk. Makoto was certain he couldn’t tell the difference. Except that some of it moved, or had lights that glowed brighter than the gaudy pink mood-lighting.

“I don’t know how, but the fucks got actual inventions I made! Look,” Miu said. “I told you normies about some of these, but others are, uh. Private. For various reasons.”

“I’d rather some of them stayed private forever,” Byakuya said, eyeing a large pink dildo sitting brazenly out on a tabletop to the side. “You vulgar, uncouth woman.’

Miu would have reacted to that kind of abuse, but she was so absorbed in her love for technology, that other base urges receded. For the moment. “This is big, you guys. Real big.”

Sonia nodded in approval. “Indeed. Something that large could satisfy any woman!”

Gundham was too busy turning completely red and hiding beneath his scarf to offer comment.

“Not that! … Not _just_ that. Consider what Kazuichi did with that fucking scrapyard! Or Chihiro! Built a fucking AI! Think about all the stuff here. Think about what my good looks and golden brain could accomplish with the proper equipment! I’ve said it since day one! Give me a lab, and useful saps, and I will conquer this fucking ‘new world’!”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Usami produced a flash drive, waddled over to a socket in the wall, and plugged it in. “Data transfer, begin!”

Flatscreens throughout the lab changed from the Science Stuff they were displaying before. Now, they showed the floating green head of Chihiro Fujisaki! The display that had come to characterize one of Chihiro’s most marvelous projects. A literal, actual AI, which had been revealed to the group before.

The Ultimates were just the kind of group who had somebody who could do that.

“Alter Ego,” Sonia put a hand over her mouth. “You have taken over this system? How?”

_“Hello, everyone! Usami transferred my program here from that old laptop.”_

It was, admittedly, unsettling to see the smiling face of somebody who was still in the hospital. On some level, it looked a lot like Chihiro’s ghostly apparition. Kaito would _not_ have approved… if he wasn’t, too, laid up in the hospital.

“Usami’s a softie,” Monokuma explained. “So she designed the tech center to house Alter Ego. He can be like, I dunno. Pick any movie or game or book. It’s like that. He can run stuff in here and help out. Super neat.”

“Forget ‘neat’! That’s fucking amazing!” Miu said. “Kiibo doesn’t have to be alone anymore! Well, that combined with my loving embrace. And regular ‘maintenance’, if you know what I mean.”

“We get it,” Makoto said.

“I mean I’m gonna fuck the robot!”

“We got it already!”

 _“Ehe. I’ll make this my home base from now on,”_ Alter Ego said, heedless of the living bundle of fluffy chaos that was Miu. _“I’ll do my best to help everyone!”_

“Making friends with computers more than people,” Monokuma sighed. “I’d make fun of you Gen Z kids, but you constantly do it to yourselves. ‘Big mood’, was it?”

To make sure there was nothing else, the group swept through each of the other three pods. They could all be locked, but none were. The owners weren’t around to protest. They had distinct setups. Chihiro’s was bathed in soft green light and dimly lit all around. Kazuichi’s had industrial flood lights all over and sported lots of bright colors and hazard tape. Kiibo’s was the most futuristic of the lot, as he was literally a robot.

It all went completely over Makoto’s head. He was grateful when they finally moved on.

Especially considering they just had a pair of Ultimate Labs left, and they’d be back at the bridge.

Everyone was grateful, deep down, to see Kirumi’s lab.

Both because it was unlikely to hold some world-shattering revelation, and because it meant Kirumi could put her talent into full practice too. Considering what she’d done on basic cleaning supplies, janitor’s closets, and supermarket gear, she’d already developed a reputation for working miracles as strong as Angie’s.

It was hard to argue with Usami’s contention that these Ultimate Labs would make life better throughout the island.

Especially in the wake of that big disaster, when most other facilities were closed for maintenance or just wiped off the face of the map.

Kirumi’s lab had a Victorian style, but not structure. Makoto expected it to be some big rich person’s mansion she could practice cleaning, but the exterior design was more… government. Lots of white columns. Even though Makoto wasn’t big on social studies, he knew what capital buildings looked like.

That duality of theme continued straight through, reflecting Kirumi’s focus on public service. While, of course, the place was also stocked with powerful chemicals and cleaning agents.

The kind of stuff that had to be handled with care.

If there was anyone on the island with stadier hands and a more professional outlook than Kirumi, well. There wasn’t. She was it. Still, through all these crises, trusted and even beloved.

Somebody messaged each of the non-lunatics to tell them about their Labs when found. Makoto made sure to do the same for Kirumi, even if everyone else forgot to.

_> I deeply appreciate your consideration, Master Naegi. With this, I’ll be able to serve everyone to the best of my meager abilities._

All things considered, things were looking up.

Then they’d looped back around on the paved two-lane road running the perimeter of the island. They reached the final Ultimate Lab just on the other side of the bridge.

A concrete room sat nearby?

One that, apparently, one could only know by reading the sign, belonged to the Ultimate Team Manager.

Nekomaru.

That brought the cheerful banter back down to earth. A lot of the forceful personalities had been sort of projecting, hoping to push away thoughts like this. It was impossible to avoid thinking about it now, though. The owner of this Lab was somewhere on death’s door, still fighting for his life as they explored.

Even Byakuya wanted to sort this place out, and then leave as quickly as possible.

“Usami, what is this?”

“Well, if you guys would just go inside…”

Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Very well. Makoto, you’ll go first.”

“... Me?!”

Some things never goddamn changed.

All that was in the utility shed was, well. Not much of anything. Utilities. Empty shelving units, bare concrete floors, a few dirty windows. Some barely-working lights. However, a mass of cables and pipes ran up and down the walls, in ways Makoto couldn't figure out. He did easily locate the one feature of the room, though. A hatch. When opened, it led to a ladder downwards.

Into the fetid, smelly darkness below.

“You are _not_ telling me that Shitomaru’s Ultimate fucking Research Lab is a goddamn sewer.” Miu burst out laughing. “ _Please_ tell me that’s not what we’re seeing here.”

“It would be a little more accurate to call it a ‘utilities hub’,” Monokuma explained. “Water, waste, electricity, even the networking on all nine islands flows right into here. There’s control panels and fuse boxes, manual levers… check it out. While there isn’t really anything here about sports or teams, this place is critical.”

Somebody had to go down into the smelly, dark underground and investigate.

No points for guessing who got that job, either.

Makoto preferred not to remember the specifics, but tried to block it all out once he got back up. “Yeah. It’s a bunch of utilities stuff, pipes, filters, sewer tunnels, a big rumbly generator… it’s wild down there.”

“Was Nekomaru possessed of some great technical wizardry too?” Gundham wondered. “Though even as I say it, it sounds absurd…”

“At least we know where the shit all the shit’s going to, and where all the juice is flowing from,” Miu said. “Not that it matters. Mark one more thing off the mystery checklist.”

“Congratulations, Usami,” Byakuya said. “With this final one, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

“R-Really-”

“In terms of designing a Lab for somebody, this has to be _the_ dirt-worst.”

Makoto could have made an argument that Nekomaru was always supporting others. He didn’t focus on himself or his own health until it was too late. Which sounded like praise, but when the result was collapsing, you weren’t going to be any use to anybody.

The Ultimate Lucky Student wasn’t exactly going to stand up to Byakuya, though. Especially not to defend Usmai’s design sense.

Double-especially not after having to walk through that design sense, and getting absolutely covered in unpleasant senses.

Exhausted mentally and physically, the exploring party, led by Byakuya, made it back to the bridge.

“That’s Seventh Island,” Usami said. “I hope it lived up to your expectations!”

“It was… acceptable,” Gundham admitted. “It will not be bad to have a roof over our heads every so often.”

Repairs on everything were going to take forever.

When Kaede’s team finally got back, they didn’t look very happy.

“I’ll tell you about it when I catch my breath,’ Kaede promised as everyone crowded around. “Whew. That was so much physical activity for the Piano Freak fresh out of like a week's bed rest. Ha ha... It wasn’t like, dangerous, or we’d have called. Just… well. Monokuma, you’re a jerk.”

Monokuma tilted his head. “Aw man, you used to be my biggest fan. What happened to you, Kaede? Oh, right. You saw me pretty much straight-up murder one of your precious widdle friends! _Ahahahahahaha!”_

“I hate you so much.” Kaede glared. “Especially after that prank you pulled. So _anyway_ , Sixth Island. Where do I start…”

As the sun dipped low in the sky, Kaede spun a tale for the whole assembled group.

A tale of an amusement park run by insane stuffed animals, an area where those animals weren’t even allowed to go, and a closed space within a closed space.


	40. 3-3. Strawberries and Grapes (Kaede)

Kaede wasn’t expecting to go to an amusement park today.

Gopher Island didn’t care _what_ a person was expecting.

This was an island where the impossible happened regularly.

Kaede’s group, escorted by both Monokuma and Usami, made their way across the long red wooden bridge, losing sight of Central Island. It happened every time somebody crossed, but the feeling of isolation between them was strange and unnatural.

Then, up ahead, they saw it.

The sixth island, of nine total.

When Kaede approached, balloons were released. They flew up into the sky alongside a rain of confetti and fireworks. The triumphant display ushered them into this new world, an island entirely covered in a huge theme park.

The bridge led directly into the front gates of the ‘park’, ticket booths silent and empty. They pushed past metal barriers, and set foot on the paved white stones.

In defiance of the gloomy atmosphere everywhere else, Nezumi Park stretched out to embrace them with buildings painted bright colors. Roller coasters twisted out complicated loops of track that loomed for stories overhead. A ferris wheel slowly spun through the sky. Posters stuck everywhere advertised the rides, and the existence of a waterpark further in. The expanse of rides was probably equal to anything found in an actual world-class theme park.

Kaede wouldn’t know.

It didn’t involve playing the piano, so hey.

Commanding it all, in the center of the park, looking down on the newcomers and the great fountain before them, was a castle. European style, with steeples and spires rising above and battlements covering the tall walls. Enormous, sturdy wooden gates blocked the way further.

_Celeste is gonna regret not coming along now._

_Maybe not, since these gates can’t be opened. Guess the castle is out for now._

Atop the great gate was a picture of a perfectly generic, copyright-free mouse.

“What, you cheap fuckers couldn’t afford Mickey-”

‘Shhhh,” Both mascots made the noise in unison, surprising Mondo, whose corncob hair bobbed as he moved back.

“What? Oh, come on. You guys can’t be serious.”

“The Mouse is always listening,” Usami informed him, gravely.

“Don’t fuck with The Mouse,” Monokuma nodded. “Just, trust us, kid. You’ll learn in time.”

Kaede knew the score. She looked for music online when she couldn’t get it any other way. She was already fully primed to hate large media and entertainment companies.

“You two make quite a comedy duo,” Byakuya observed, arms crossed as much as his bulky girth allowed. “It’s moments like these where I can’t help but observe how synchronized you are.”

Usami was outraged. “I’m not like this stupid dummy at all! I’m much more sophisticated!”

“Then why am I running circles around your supposed ‘security’...?”

“Enough,” Byakuya snapped. Like most people did when he was barking orders, the plushies obeyed. “If we must, we’ll take you along, but we won’t have your endless prattle. Speak when spoken to. Kaede, we must proceed with caution. This is the most dangerous situation.”

“It is?! Explain yourself, Byakuya!” Taka tensed up, taking a fighting stance. Not a very good one, since he was a hall monitor. Fortunately, it didn’t have to be good, since there were no enemies around.

Why was he expecting there to be…?

“Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer.” Byakuya said. “And ‘comfortable and self-assured’ is how every ambush starts.”

Kaede shrugged. “That’s a little dramatic. But I can’t deny there’s probably something terrible waiting ahead. Just based on our track record, we should be cautious. Come on, guys.”

It was tempting to split up and cover more ground over this enormous park, but Kaede made sure the group held together. Or, more accurately, Sakura did. Her glare promised consequences for anybody who decided to shirk responsibility.

“We must search for clues to the mysteries we’ve uncovered, or information about this island. Let’s get to work.”

Shame her girlfriend didn’t get the memo. Or maybe it wasn’t. Hina had been cured of her nymphomania, something Kaede didn’t regret. Some of it lingered on, though. Or at least, Hina had become more physically affectionate. Not caring who saw her cling to Sakura’s massive muscular arm as they walked. “Sakura! They’ve got a water park, look. With a pool! A pool that hasn’t been blown to bits!”

“We can’t assume that,” Maki pointed out.

Just as the festive park and peppy music playing in the background clashed with the mood, it clashed with ‘Maki Roll’ too. The others gave her a wide berth, in a way they didn’t even do with Mondo. Kaede could understand why everyone was uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t let that stand in her way.

The Ultimate Pianist slid up beside Maki, and held out her hand.

“Let’s explore together.”

Regardless of the warnings, this was totally a couple’s date out at the amusement park. Kaede wasn’t going to pass that up, even if she half expected to pull back a bloody stump. That didn’t happen, but Maki just stared at her hand.

“I’m not a kid, Kaede. I won’t wander off.”

Kaede looked around at the wide-open, empty paths.

Incidental tumbleweed bounced past.

“Come on, Maki. Look at all these crowds. Better safe than sorry?~”

In response to this brilliant line, Maki said _“Do you wanna die?”_ But she also put her well-manicured hand in Kaede’s own.

_Mixed signals much?_

Kaede couldn’t help but feel her cheeks warm up, and a small blush was evident on Maki’s extremely pale face too.

_I knew it. Maki’s got to love this change of pace, even if she tries to be edgy._

She’d sealed herself inside that lab, behind the big vault door, for so long. She couldn’t move around as she pleased, and she’d been paranoid about her secret getting out. About people deciding to do to her, well. What had been done to others since. During that time, Maki’s only interaction had been with Kaito.

Poor girl.

“Have you ever been to a real theme park?” Kaede asked.

Maki sighed. “Once, but it was on a job. Never for personal reasons.”

Kaede had a hard time squaring the fact that Maki killed people with everything else about her.

Maybe it was just Kaede’s own perception getting in the way. To her, a normal person wasn’t a killer. Certainly not a professional killer. She only knew assassins as most people did; a concept. Not a positive one. A bald man in a suit mercilessly mowing down target after target, taking people's lives.

After so many people had nearly died, after all those terrible revelations, she was taking a contract killer’s hand and going on a group date.

Kaede, who couldn’t forgive killing, and said that everyone had value. Who believed that nobody deserved to die. She’d even argued that with the rest of the Council when the subject of the prisoners came up.

Yet, here she was, a big old hypocrite.

The other option would have been to shun Maki, though.

Did she ever feel guilty about the people she’d killed?

What had her life been like?

Why did she save Sayaka and Chihiro?

Kaede had a million questions about the gorgeous black-haired girl holding her hand, but wasn’t brave enough for it. She could barely manage to speak up.

“Maki, is it okay if I-”

“Just ask me about it. You’re not very subtle, and I don’t care one way or another.”

Kaede expected territory like ‘hey, you kill people for money, right?’ or ‘hey, you said you were an orphan, right?’ to be, uh. Sore spots. To say the least. She was surprised when Maki just talked to her about it, without any coaxing.

“Okay, then. Guess we’ve gotta start with the Ultimate Assassin thing, right…?”

“Nobody ever wants to talk about anything else, once they’ve learned that,” Maki said. “Don’t feel bad about it. It’s natural you’d worry. There’s not really much to say, though. It’s a part of me, just like playing piano.”

_Except nobody ever got killed by bad piano players._

_Actually, that’s almost certainly not true._

“I guess if a piano fell from a really high place, it could kill somebody.”

Maki shook her head. “Obsessive weirdo. I guess I have no room to talk.” Kaede thought that was just another snarky comment, but it led to a follow-up that took her off-guard. “Hey. Did you choose to become the Ultimate Pianist?”

Kaede smirked. “What, like did I enter a contest or something?”

“I’m not talking about being given that title by HPA. I’m talking about the fact that you’re a useless Piano Freak.” Ouch. “But in exchange, you play really well. You’re a specialist, in other words. When did you know you wanted to play piano?”

“I’ve known all my life.”

“Even as a baby?”

Kaede grinned. “When we get back home, I have the best baby photos to show you. Did you know they made baby-pianos?”

Maki sighed. “I don’t know why I expected a serious conversation from you, of all people.”

“Hey, I’m not kidding around, Maki! I’ve just always been… that way.” Kaede rubbed her head. “I can’t help it anymore than I can make myself stop staring at girls, or breathing air. Piano, air, and girls, are all necessary fuel to keep the artistic blaze known as Kaede Akamatsu going!”

“And food. Don’t forget a lot of food.”

_I know I need to work out, okay?!_

“Guys are nice too, but there’s… Hey!” Kaede glared. “Just because you’re using that Shadow the Hedgehog attitude as some kind of shield to push people away and protect your ever-so-fragile heart? Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you call me fat whenever you like.”

Maki didn’t apologize, but she didn’t press the issue, either.

The damage had already been done.

_Wait, she’s just trying to get me off-track!_

“I thought that we wouldn’t have anything in common at all,” Maki said. “At least we have one thing. Neither of us really… chose this for ourselves. We’re really good at what we do, but it’s our purpose. You could say it was decided by others.”

That was all Maki wanted to say about it for now, which was fair enough. Kaede was probably weird for bringing that stuff up in such a happy place, anyhow.

_I feel like I got a better picture of what Maki’s life has been like._

They picked up their pace, rejoined the group.

Who were busy getting into the spirit of the place, rather than talking about all that gloomy serious stuff.

“Cotton candy is a truly worthless substance, as far as food offerings go,” Byakuya opined grandly. “Eat a cloud, you’ll get more out of it. Even if there are stands offering that, Usami, it’s as pointless as everything here.”

“Hey, bro, you ever been up on a roller coaster before?” Mondo asked to Taka. Kaede expected the two of them to start holding hands too, although of course they’d never do that. Heh. “Sounds like the kinda lame shit you’d enjoy. Probably think it’s the most exciting thing ever.”

Taka was gravely wounded by this. “I know there’s more exciting things in life than just a roller coaster! At least, a few. However, it sounds like you’re underestimating the value of a well-built thrill ride!”

“Dude. How could it ever compare to my hog? You been on some of that shit in my Lab. You know it’s a beast without compare.”

Mondo would have been a wreck if those bikes hadn’t made it through the bombing.

“There’s only one way to work this out, guys,” Hina said. She pointed up at the roller coaster. “We’re near the entrance, anyway~”

“It would be a novel experience,” Sakura said. “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

Monokuma was delighted by this, which was a bad sign. The bear jumped up on the nearest high thing in delight. “I’m glad you all trust Usami so much, that you’d ride something designed by her! Those haven’t had massive, horrifying flaws lately.”

“Most of those ‘flaws’ are your fault!” Usami knocked him off his perch, and took it for herself. “Quiet down! Ahem. This is excellent, I was hoping the coaster would catch your eye. I’ve prepared this park as a little motive of my own. A motive to help you all get along! So, if everyone agrees to it, you can all ride the coaster together.”

Most of the team was for it.

Maki gave in when Kaede deployed the puppy-dog eyes.

Byakuya was immune to such charms, though. Especially when he already had another musician back home waiting for him. As much as Ibuki ever ‘waited’ for anything.

“Is this really worth our time?”

Kaede had a comeback ready, though. “Our mission is explore the island! We can’t just leave a big thing like this untested. Who knows. There might even be a prize for riding it!”

“The prize is all the hope that will be cultivated by your friendship,” Usami said.

“... Like friendship!” Kaede winced. “I mean, you might as well give it a try, right? You can’t say that the ‘getting along’ thing hasn’t paid off for you pretty well.”

“If my protege insists,” Byakuya sighed. “Then it cannot be helped. A question for the rabbit, though. When you say that ‘all of us’ must consent, does that include the midget in back?”

“... Hawawa?”

“Midget…?” Kaede looked behind her, just in case. “What?”

“Kokichi.” Maki’s death glare was quick this time, coming on full-force until her eyes practically glowed with malice. Or maybe part of her honed instincts were kicking in at the thought of somebody stalking them. “He’s been following us around for a while.”

Sakura nodded. “I noticed his mischievous presence, but thought little of it. One moment, please.”

She took off with amazing speed for such a gigantic person. There was a commotion among the fields of tents and empty stands. Then, she came back. In one hand, she held Kokichi by the scarf off the ground as he struggled.

“H-Hey, guys,” He said. “How’s it hangin’?”

Biggest shit-eating grin on his face, of course.

“How did you get here?’ Byakuya demanded. “The bridge was to be guarded at all times! Only our survey team is authorized to enter.”

“Ah, yes.” Kokichi explained, flailing ineffectually like a kid against Sakura’s grip. “Sakura, this is really not comfortable... Oh, whatever. Sheesh, this is the problem with trying to teach ogres to speak and go to college and stuff… Speaking of which, the guard right now is Gonta, as you may recall.”

“And he just let you walk on by?” Mondo asked, fist balled in annoyance.

_Come to think of it, sneaking over to this island was a bad idea. Basically everyone here except me wants to beat you up._

_Jury’s still out for me, especially after this stunt._

“I told him a story about how people were gonna die unless I got to you guys with super important special news. So he let me in, since of course he wants to protect everyone. The moron feels so useless now.”

“But we all have texting,” Hina said. “If you had news for us…”

“He _bought_ that?!” Mondo was more outraged by that then with Kokichi’s presence.

“To be fair, Gonta is very stupid,” Kokichi said.

Byakuya adjusted his glasses. “Valid point. Well, I suppose there isn’t anything he could have messed with in just this time, in an empty amusement park. As long as we keep a firm hold of him now, he shouldn’t be able to pose any kind of risk.”

“Risk? I’d never be a risk to you guys, anyway!” Kokichi protested. “Uh, can you put me down, please, Miss Ogre?”

Hina gripped her red jacket with her fists, balling them up in annoyance.

_I think that’s the last person who didn’t want to beat you up, nice work Kokichi. Seven for seven._

Sakura said, “Shall I take him back?”

Kaede looked over at Taka. “I’ll message Gundham about it, but since there’s two of us here, we can also just, like, decide.” She kept speaking as she typed on the touchscreen display. “Byakuya’s right. And, much as I might not want to admit it, he could be useful.”

“... How?” Taka asked. “Did we not have enough confusing mysteries for your tastes, Kaede?!”

“He’s possessed of a devilish cleverness,” Byakuya said. “Considering Monokuma may have tampered with this park in some unknown way, he may help us. If nothing else, to save his own skin if he finds some trap we all get ensnared in.”

“I’d be willing to make that trade,” Kokichi said. “I’ll help you out, and in return, you guys acknowledge me as the true leader of this team!”

Taka sighed. “We’ll let you stay,” He said. “However, Kaede is still the leader!”

“Aw.”

“Fuckin’ ungrateful brat,” Mondo grumbled. “I still say you should let me beat him up, bro.”

“No, bro! As satisfying as that might be to watch, we need an orderly society. There’s been enough violence lately. We need to set an example for everyone! That’s what real leadership is about!”

“Tch. Guess I can’t argue with that. Come on, let’s ride this fucking thing already.”

Kaede wasn’t experienced with roller coasters, and this one was a doozie. She could barely track its twists and turns throughout the park, although she’d have no choice but to strap in with everyone else. The train-car conveniently happened to fit eight passengers per, and each sat held two. Kaede staked out the very front of the train, pulling Maki along. She didn’t enjoy having others’ eyes drilling into the back of her head, but Kaede wanted to show that neither of them cared about that.

Behind them, Hina struggled to fit, for various reasons. A lot of it had to do with Sakura being beside her. At least they could press up really close to each other and it would be okay with both of them. Likewise, Mondo and Taka didn’t mind getting comfortable back there in the rear car, and Kaede didn’t mind seeing that.

Usami was right. Everyone getting along and forming bonds had to be a good thing. Kaede could at least put her faith in that!

She also found it gut-bustingly hilarious to watch Byakuya settle into car three alongside Kokichi.

Not so many bonds being forged there.

“Remember to remove your glasses, big guy,” Kokichi sighed. “Wouldn’t want you to be blind and helpless. Especially alongside an evil mastermind like me.”

“You raise another good point, you small yapping dog.”

“Now we’ll see what’s more intense,” Mondo roared. “Come on, Usami! Monokuma! Give us your best fuckin’ shot! Turbo-charge this bitch and get it going!”

They obliged his request.

Kaede wasn’t going for her degree in physics, but she obviously understood the basics of roller coaster design. You went up a hill, and when you were pulled up to the top with chains and motors and stuff, then, well. What went up, had to come back down. It was more than just needing all the kinetic energy, though.

The ride up was also fraught with mounting tension and anticipation.

The longer they climbed that first slope, only able to see the track in front of them and the park getting smaller to either side, climbing into that cold, grey sky, the more Kaede felt her stomach clench.

“I bet Kaito would love this,” Kaede said. “... If he was well enough to come…”

Maki shook her head. “Don’t start that. You may as well lament all the people who can’t come here, because they messed up or got hurt or are insane. Or all the people who aren’t on this island, like the Ultimates who fell to the Hunt or whatever. Once you start on that road, it’ll go on forever, so just don’t. Or at least do it quietly, so I can enjoy this.”

Kaede grinned to herself.

_That’s a good point, but even so. Ha, you admitted it! That means I win._

Once they reached the crest of the first hill, Kaede didn’t feel like much of a winner. She saw the track below, descending so far it looked like the lines converged into a single point just because of how far it was. Then, straight ahead, she saw the next rise. Which was even steeper and larger, and just waiting for them after this.

“It’s like I told you guys,” Monokuma hopped up onto the roof of the first car. “You need your peaks… and you need your valleys. Enjoy!”

Kaede at least got closer to Kaito in one way.

She now understood what it was like to be in freefall.

The cart crested the edge, and gravity took over. All connected cars plunged, racing downwards, as stiff, cold winds bombarded them and everyone had to hold on for dear life.

Some people handled this better than others, but Kaede couldn’t take note of that very much, as she was screaming.

That was what you were meant to do in an amusement park, right?

Kaede’s golden ears got a workout on that ride just as much as her stomach and the rest of her body, wracked by G-forces and stiff winds. After all, others were screaming, too. To her sensitive, finely-tuned hearing, it sounded like they were yelling through a megaphone directly into her ear.

She paid it no heed at the time, too swept up. Every peak was anticipation, and every valley was the inevitable payoff. It just happened quicker once they were in motion, carried not by any motor aboard, but just by pure physics. Faster, slower, up, down, and a few rotations and twisty turns. The coaster was only kept on the tracks from fiction and tension, where otherwise it would have dumped them countless stories to the cobblestones below.

_What a rush!_

It got their adrenaline pumping without being some life-threatening battle or horrible tragedy, what a novel concept. Just people able to enjoy themselves.

Or in Hina’s case, nearly throw up.

She was still giddy by the time they arrived back at the station, although she did stumble into the nearby first aid station quickly. Sakura followed along to make sure she was alright, and they were soon back.

“Hina, are you-”

“That was awesome!” She was just as bouncy and energetic as ever. More than ever, thanks to that.

“Not bad,” Mondo had to admit. “I could probably do better on the city streets, but since we don’t got those, this’ll do for now.”

“You said it, bro!” Even the straightforward Taka couldn’t deny it. “That was a heck of a thrill ride. Nice work, Usami.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Monokuma’s protests were largely ignored.

“Good job, Monokuma,” Kokichi excepted, of course. “I especially like the plate you added while were up there. Usami hasn’t even-”

“Hawawa!”

Yeah. Something was there at the station of the roller coaster that hadn’t been present when Kaede boarded. She was pretty sure she didn’t just miss a carved bronze plaque, similar to the others.

If this was their present for doing the ride, or some grand sinister clue, though, it wasn’t very good.

**“All of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again, so that you can’t learn the code.”**

Usami was freaked out that everyone saw it, which proved it meant something. But she quickly recovered and pretended it was meaningless. Kaede was tempted to agree with that, but she still used her Hope Pad to take a grainy, low-res shot, and sent it to the others.

_> What do you think it means? Code for what?_

_< Heck if I know, Makoto. We’re still looking around, but if that’s it, I’ll be sad._  
_< I’m ready for some clues that make sense._

Byakuya didn’t look so good. It wasn’t from that mind-blowing revelation, either.

“How was it?” Kaede asked the huge man, doing her best to give a bright smile while fighting off vertigo and dizziness. She definitely expect the thoughtful reply she got back, though.

“Tolerable.”

“Hey, you’d better put the glasses back on,” Kokichi advised. “Now that we’re back on solid ground. After all, the real Byakuya needs them to see.”

“Very amusing,” Byakuya snapped as he quickly put his spectacles back on. “That reminds me. Once we’re back with the group, I’ll have… something to say to everyone. Something past just our report on this island.”

Before that, they had to finish checking this place out.

Even though Monokuma only mentioned a clue for Angie’s group, there might be something more here, too.

Despite the size of the park, a lot of the attractions that had opened up at first were clearly not operating. After all, there was a reason people worked at parks. There weren’t even Usamis to pick up the slack. The Ultimates didn’t want to mess with control boxes and power cords.

A lot of rides, including the stylish bumper cars, were sadly not available.

At least it was a good reminder of why they were really there. Like Byakuya said, this wasn’t actually a theme park. It was a theme park movie set, which looked authentic and had some good detail, and even a few functional bits.

It was largely eye-candy.

When it wasn’t broken up by the occasional crater with an unexploded shell sitting in there.

The water park was easy to survey. There was a lifeguard’s station with a great view of the canals and winding waterways, along with a log flume and all that. Kaede might have gone back later, splashed around, and stared at girls in bikinis, sure. However, she managed to stop Hina from just going full speed and diving in right now.

Which wasn’t easy.

Girl was obsessed, too.

_I guess everyone here’s an unbalanced personality in one way or another._

_Being mega-rich, being a Piano Freak, lying about everything, being a swimming beast, being the strongest person in the world, leading a biker gang, being the embodiment of order, being a hired assassin._

_You don’t become an Ultimate by sitting around. Well, mostly._

_Sorry, Makoto._

“I want you to imagine what it would be like to find a _piano_ here,” Hina scolded Kaede, furious as she was led off towards other areas of the enormous park-labyrinth. “And then be dragged off and treated like a drug addict for wanting to play it!”

Kaede definitely didn’t bring up the message she got from Makoto. The one about how the Ultimate Pianist’s Lab had just been found. She couldn’t help a stab of guilt.

“Once we secure the island and make sure there’s no like, nuclear bombs sitting around, we can come back and have fun.”

“I always thought Mister Burke had a really good point about removing eyesores from the landscape,” Kokichi said. “For some reason, a lot of my classmates really didn’t like that guy when we played…”

_> Hey Kaede, if you've got Kokichi over there, can you let him know we found his Lab?_

_< I'll consider it._

Of course she told him, and for once, Kokichi had a predictable reaction. He said, "Nice! Now I can put the final stages of my plan in place to crush the Gopher Project, and rule this world!"

So in other words, he spouted giberish and lies, but at least the news cheered him up.

They found another functional ride, a train.

Those tended to be a lot less intense and exciting than coasters, which sounded good to Kaede. She wasn’t sure a lot of the gang, herself included, could handle another twisty-turny adventure.

Little could they possibly expect that this one would throw them for more of a loop than any swooping coaster.

“Like last time,” Monokuma announced, voice raised, ever the showman, “Everyone must consent to riding this. And when it ends, you _will_ receive a prize. In case you bastards haven’t guessed the themes so far, Angie’s team is finding information about **the old world, where you came from and what happened.** Whereas I thought it would be way more fun to give you guys here some clues about **the new world. Where you are… and where you’re going.** ”

“I never authorized you to add your own themes!” Usami said. “Or to give clues like that. Do you think you’re gonna be able to do an end-run around our treaty?”

“Chill out, sis,” Monokuma said dismissively. “Nothing in any of the information breaks our various agreements. Of course, you’d know that already, right? With your power...”

“I suppose that if we asked about your ‘various agreements’, or the ‘power’ you keep speaking of, you will not answer,” Sakura said. “At least not yet. Very well. Monokuma, will you at least tell us why you chose those themes, and split them up?”

“That much is simple. History shapes who we are now. However, now is way more important! Now is the only time that you can live! Usami’s therapy program leaves that until the very end! I didn’t think that was fair, so I’m getting you ready. Heck, Usami should be glad for my assistance.”

Usami wasn’t glad for Monokuma’s ‘help’ in refining her therapy program.

“I, for one, think we should trust Monokuma,” Kokichi opined. Of course he did.

“... Hey, where does this thing go?” Hina asked, ignoring Kokichi. “It just sort of heads into a tunnel, but I can’t see where it comes back out.”

While everyone else was busy talking about that stuff, of course Hina would ask the obvious question. The question so obvious, nobody else would have figured to ask. She was right, too. Unlike the roller coaster, which could be tracked going throughout the park, banking into the sky, twisting, and plunging back down to Earth… There weren’t any train tracks.

“It’s an underground ride,” Usami explained. “It leads to a super-duper Funhouse. Designed by yours truly, and not Monokuma! That means it’s not dangerous or offensive in any way, but totally safe.”

“You and your safe spaces,” Monokuma grumbled. “Kids these days, can’t even murder their friends properly.”

_Usami, I might be on your side, but telling people something is safe tends to make them think the opposite._

Usami meant the best, she just had terrible ways of expressing it. Or of dealing with people. Which was one of Usami’s primary functions, especially if they were all in some kind of therapy program on this island.

_To be fair, after all that’s happened, we probably need it._

“Bickering is pointless,” Byakuya chastened everyone, once they started to argue over it. “We received a clue from the last ride. However useless it may seem now, with proper context, it may prove invaluable. If the same holds true here, then we have no choice. Even if Monokuma springs a trap, we’ll just have to overcome it with Usami’s help.”

The cars of the miniature train were laid out like a roller coaster, but with covered tops. The same seats were present, so the group took the same seating arrangement. With puffs of smoke, the locomotive chugged forward, slowly picking up something that resembled speed.

They passed through the lip of the tunnel, headed downwards, into darkness.

* * *

 

Byakuya was right on both scores.

It was the only way forward, but it was also a terrible idea.

The last thing Kaede saw of the underground tunnel was it filling with a colored smoke.

Like everyone else, she passed out.

When she came to some time later, she saw…

_A **bug-eyed monster** standing over her!_

“Eeeek!”

With a scream, she sat up, nearly bonking into that huge, bulky white beast. Which, once she blinked away the sleep from her eyes, resolved down to a more familiar shape.

“... Byakuya?!”

The Ultimate Affluent Progeny was wearing a gas mask. His arrogant, commanding voice was muffled. “Wake up, Kaede. Come on, the gas should be wearing off. Everyone else is coming to, as well. Calm down and be ready to reassure them. We must take hold of the situation.”

“Uh, okay.” As soon as Kaede was reassured, she’d be ready to reassure anyone else. “Where… are we?”

“Judging from the decor?”

Byakuya glanced around.

“Hell.”

Kaede couldn’t argue that one. The room they were in was blinding bright red. All of the walls had some kind of strawberry pattern projected onto it, and brightly displayed the same color light. The red didn’t cover everything, just project onto the gaudy walls, making for an eye-bleeding prospect to contrast normal-looking people with the cheerful design.

“Yeah, this is definitely Usami’s doing- Oh god.”

Seeing everyone lying around on the ground like that made Kaede think of two things. One was obvious; the other was that first day, when she woke up in the lecture hall with the guys.

That was the start of their crazy voyage.

_I haven’t even seen the end of this story. Whether it ends in hope or despair. But we’re already starting something new?_

“Everyone’s fine,” Byakuya assured her, removing the gas-mask and stowing it in some deep pockets on his white suit. “They’re just coming to, now. The gas knocked everyone else out. I was quick enough to get my mask on, but then afterwards, Monokuma knocked me out.”

“Monokuma _hit_ you?!”

“With a stun bomb of some sort, he didn’t physically touch or attack me. That’s why I know it was him behind this ‘warm welcome’, though. Usami’s never so direct.”

Kaede still made sure everyone was breathing before she let out the breath she’d been holding in.

As Byakuya promised, they came around quickly, recovering as Kaede shook off the last of her drowsy panic. Which was just replaced with waking worry and concern.

The place, presumably the Funhouse that Usami promised, was too weird. Nothing looked quite like itself, and as far as she knew, that was the point. To disorient visitors, which was all in good fun.

When the visitors weren’t kidnapped and brought here without a word.

Perhaps feeling that was a bit much, even for him, Monokuma didn’t take long to make his entrance.

_Bwoing._

Just Monokuma, no Usami in sight.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the sudden change of plans. Things might be awkward now because of the whole ‘kidnapping’ deal, but by the end of this ride, you’ll thank me. Heck, you’ll fall down on your knees and beg for my mercy.”

Kaede glared at the plushie. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, whatever! Spare me the speeches. At least until you learn what’s going on. I brought you here because this is a space that Usami can’t totally control!”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Hina coughed in annoyance, trying to clear her lungs of any leftover stuff.

“Technically, I’ve been in charge since the train went underground,” Monokuma continued. “I think you guys know what that means~”

Kaede sweatdropped. “That you were telling the truth about wanting to help us?”

“The killing game is back on, baby! And the rules are real goddamn simple this time. **You aren't getting out of this space until somebody dies.** I don’t care who. I don’t care how. I just want the killing to finally, finally start. No last-minute miracles. I won’t allow such hackneyed developments now that I’ve gained power!”

Kaede could only stare in horror. Like the others, she was struck silent.

Except for a certain gremlin, who had a positively ghoulish grin on his face. "Finally, some real action."

“Oh, and before you ask, I’ve removed the exit for this place. It’s a closed circle within a closed circle! No Usami, no surveillance, no rescue from your friends. The Hope Pads won’t even function down here! You’re not getting any damn food, either, so you’d better make your move before you starve!”

Kaede couldn’t believe this was real.

After all this time, it wasn’t possible for her to accept this sudden change.

“It’s time for you all to learn the price of defying me! Killing me never ends the game. Hell, _ending the game_ never ends the game! We’ll just play more and more games, until finally… uh. What’s that noise?”

Kaede was the first to hear it, after Monokuma. The others picked up on it a few seconds later.

It heralded one of the Funhouse walls exploding in a burst of white light, and the arrival of Usami.

“... You know, I was really expecting to have more time for this joke,” Monokuma admitted.

“Don’t underestimate the Future Foundation!” Usami huffed. “Even down here, the system is still… oh, good. Everyone’s okay.”

“Okay, fine. I give. You got me, guys. I was kidding.”

Kaede didn’t know whether to be relieved, or to get up and strangle whatever passed for life out of that monochrome bear on the spot.

“Aww, man. I knew it was probably a joke, but I was looking forward to some serious murder-mystery action,” Kokichi examined his nails in disappointment.

_Correction, I’ll just strangle Kokichi. Monokuma, he, and I will all get what we want at the same time._

Maki pulled out something sharp from her skirt, and tossed it like a dart with laser accuracy. It skewered Monokuma to the wall, right through its processing unit in the head, and in a shower of sparks, the unit burst into flames.

Everyone had enough experience by now to hit the deck.

Kaede had to admit, her adrenaline was rushing and roaring, and a big explosion helped that too. Her pulse pounded, and had been ever since she had an inkling of what that asshole Monokuma’s plan had been. ‘Joke’ nothing, he’d really just tried to trap and screw them over!

It was worth the ringing in their ears, and the certain knowledge that he’d be back in seconds, to watch the jerk go up in flames.

Only, he didn’t come crawling right back.

“Just like I thought,” Maki nodded to herself. “When these two two are struggling over something, they can’t focus their control as much. That leaves an opening.”

“Monokuma has been messing with my control of the island,” Usami admitted. “He’s messing with a lot of things all at once to make me pick my battles. Sometimes literally. However, he’s also focusing on a few areas, and I can’t always figure out why. This Funhouse was one of his points of interest, but now I understand. He tried to block access, and also placed… oh dear.”

“What did he place in here?!” Byakuya demanded. “This is not the time to keep any more secrets from us, Usami. After that scare, we’re in no mood.”

Usami thought it over for a few moments. “No, before anything else, the first priority has to be to get you all to safety! Monokuma could have prepared any kind of weird thing in this place. Come on, everyone! Follow me back to the surface, where you’ll be safe!”

Most of the team was glad to get out of there. Even Monokuma’s little ‘prank’, assuming it was just that, had been far closer to a grim reality than anyone liked. Kaede couldn’t deny she felt the same, but even so…

“Hang on, Usami. Byakuya has a point. Not to mention, our job is to explore every place on this island. Or, in this case, below it.”

Usami started to glow, a rainbow aura of magical power. “Miss Akamatsu, I don’t like to insist. But if I have to bring everyone back myself, then I’ll take whatever measures are-”

A knife in Usami’s throat silenced her threat, and made her topple over as well, twitching as automated systems failed and what passed for her life ended.

Everyone had seen Usamis die in the war, but even when Mondo punted one across the island, it had been comedy. This was an Usami being obliterated by one of the Ultimates. Somehow that was just as shocking as any of the other twists and turns.

Kaede certainly couldn’t believe it.

“Maki, _what are you doing!?”_ Kaede demanded.

“Confirming my theory. It’s a long shot,” Maki said. “But it paid off. Look, no Usami back either. If both Usami and Monokuma have a hard time controlling this space, or if they’re fighting over it, then this is our only chance.”

“Our only chance? I don’t get it. I don’t get any of this!”

Maki fixed Kaede with a steely gaze. One not of cold fury, but determination.

“Bring back whatever Usami doesn’t want us to see.”

“Usami’s on our side, guys, there’s no way we can just kill her like that-” Hina started to protest, but Kaede put up a hand.

No point crying over the blood of a girl who was sweet like milk.

“We’ll apologize later. Hopefully, she understands. Or at least doesn’t get too angry.”

“What’s she gonna do?” Kokichi shrugged, pleased by his rebellious, chaotic turn of events as much as if a Killing Game had developed. “Neglect us even harder? Oh no.”

“A proposal. Maki and I will remain behind and hold this place,” Sakura said. “I don’t know how long we can keep them out, but we will do our utmost. We’ll give you the time you need. Maki, shall we?”

Maki nodded.

“Sounds good to me!” Kokichi cheered. “Both of you would be useless as investigators, since INT was your dump stat. This way, the rest of us can get on with it! … Kidding, kidding! Hey, I thought we were all friends! If you can’t handle me at my sauciest, you don’t deserve me at my best!”

“Regardless of this yapping little beast,” Byakuya looked between the two women. “Your proposal should do nicely, Sakura. I approve.” What election did Byakuya Togami win, again…? “Everyone else, let’s move. There’s no time to waste.”

Considering what they’d found up until now, they couldn’t pass up this chance.

“Split into teams to cover more ground,” Byakuya said, consulting a wall-mounted map of the facility. Two houses, connected by a tower and elevator, each three floors. That was a lot of ground to cover on the double. “Taka, Hina, with me. We’ll scour this garish Strawberry House. Kaede, Mondo, Kokichi, check across the way at Grape House. It’s not ideal, but there’s only so much Kokichi I can stand, and we need at least one person equipped with a brain in both houses.”

“Hang on a second,” Taka protested. “Everybody’s just making decisions on their own, but we’re the leaders here, Kaede and I will decide-”

“You fool, there’s no time!” Byakuya roared. _“Go now!”_

One nice thing about the Togami legacy was that in a pinch, when people had to react to a barked order in a moment and worry about the consequences later, it was really handy to have him around. Taka snapped off a salute, and ran off down the brightly-colored hallways.

Byakuya continued. “Mondo, I know how you feel about protecting women. If worse comes to worse, guard her with your life. Kaede is more important than either of us.”

Mondo nodded solemnly, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve been dying to see if I can beat my previous record. C’mon, babe. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Yeah,” Kokichi agreed. “I care so much about you, Kaede! I’ll make sure that dastardly Usami doesn’t… love you… too much?”

_Great. Stick me with the nutcase guys in an isolated area._

_Whatever._

_This isn’t even our worst plan, we need to hold a contest for that sometime._

At least once Mondo set his mind to something, he just plowed on down the road, regardless of obstacles in his path. Whether he was at risk of crashing, or driving somebody off the road, or just mowing down obstacles without slowing down, he just barreled ahead. He grabbed Kaede’s hand and ran them towards the elevator.

That frantic rush made the gentle, smooth elevator ride even more awkward, as the three of them stood there.

They had so little in common, and so much time quietly wondering if the lift was even working. The mechanisms were silent, and all movement was so gradual Kaede legitimately couldn’t feel it.

Kokichi either didn’t notice the awkwardness, or just didn’t care.

“So, Mondo, you murdered your brother, huh?”

Nice.

It’s not like Kaede wasn’t thinking a less horrifying version of that, especially after hanging with Maki during the walking tour earlier. She just had a way of expressing herself that didn’t involve offending the massive macho biker dude.

“That’s right, shortstuff. And I liked him a whole hell of a lot more than I like you.”

Kokichi could have taken the hint, but he chose not to to.

“Normally people who front this hard and flex are lying about some part of it. It’s a weird thing to lie about, though.”

“You callin’ me a liar?!”

Kokichi whispered, loudly, to Kaede, _“I think he’s catching on to my game plan.”_

“Don’t involve me in this,” Kaede said, putting up her hands. “Mondo, I’m not friends with him, and we’re not doing a bit. If you don’t wanna talk about this kind of sensitive thing, then-”

“I really did it.”

‘Huh?”

“Gonna spare you the song and dance. What I said at the Truth and Reconciliation is true. But this pipsqueak has one thing kinda right, Kaede. It ain’t the full story. For a lot of kids on the street, the Crazy Diamonds are all they’ve got. The gang had to stay together, I had to keep em together after Big Bro Daiya bought it. No system protecting them. No promises, just what they can scrape out on their own.”

“Regardless of anything, you admitted this kind of thing, and that takes strength.” Kaede had even more to chew on now, something else to think over. “Thanks for putting this much trust in us, Mondo. Even in ones who might not deserve it.”

Kokichi glared up at Kaede. “Why are you treating me worse than the literal murderer?! This is just like how you’re snuggling up to ‘Maki Roll’! I think you’re forgetting who’s friend and who’s foe in here, Kaede!”

Kaede glared right back down. “At least once somebody’s killed, they don’t continue to suffer. Unlike you, who wants us to suffer slowly, over and over again. You mess with people just to do it, then wonder why everyone hates you?”

_Ding._

The doors slid open.

“Shut your mouth,” Kaede said. “And get to work. Consider that an order.”

Kokichi sighed. “If you insist. I’ll go on ahead and find the actual important stuff, you two can do whatever.” He left, and Kaede yelling couldn’t bring him back. Kaede didn't try too hard, though. If he wanted to be like that and branch out on his own, maybe he’d turn something up.

Or maybe he’d get out of her face, which was almost as good.

“I’ll take the top, and you take the bottom,” Mondo said. “We can meet in the middle, let’s do this.”

Kaede searched the bottom floor, finding nothing but a lobby. A large, wide open space with some furniture, but nothing else. The second floor had hotel rooms of some kind, divided by quality level. However, they all had normal stuff in them; each had a bed, a small TV that didn’t work, a bathroom, and little else. Checking each of those ate up time Kaede didn’t have, and produced nothing useful.

At least she was sure she hadn’t missed anything through this place. It had felt a lot bigger from the map, but in reality, when she looked around, it was confined. Claustrophobic, even.

If the entire group had been penned into these two fruit-themed houses and made to kill each other, the conditions would have been horrifying beyond measure.

That meant there had to be something on the third floor.

There just _had_ to be, or all this was all for nothing.

For once, Kaede’s wish was granted, although she wasn’t sure she liked the sight unfolding before her.

The room gave off _that_ kind of aura. There was no mistaking it.

This was a place put here for some purpose by Usami. Kaede couldn’t have even given a good guess at what that would be, now. Monokuma had come through, using his ‘control of this space’ or whatever that meant, and replaced her work. It wasn’t a seamless switch, though. Monokuma seemed to take a lot of pleasure in defacing bits of the island dedicated to Usami.

It was like what happened to the New World Library on the surface. Statues of Usami had been tipped over and smashed, and this time, replaced with effigies of the monochrome bear himself.

These so-called Monokuma Archives contained a lot of wacky things that Kaede and Mondo had no time for, but Kokichi found hilarious. Kaede was the last one to arrive, huffing and puffing from the stairs and running and the physical activity, and watching the two boys tear through books.

They were just as delicate with this stuff as Monokuma had been with Usami’s records.

The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader embodied that old joke. _‘This is not a book to be put down lightly. It should be thrown, with great force.‘_

Monokuma’s supposed journal entries that read like magnetic poetry? Tossed.

Self-help guides to killing your friends with elaborate death traps? Thrown.

A chronicle of Monokuma being a successful company mascot? Ground.

Talking about some company called Spike-Chunsoft? Well, that one was at least worth a look over, it was kind of interesting-

“There’s gotta be somethin’ here,” Mondo grumbled. “Monokuma was talking about clues and shit! This is the only place something like that could be!”

Kaede shuffled through the packed bookshelves, scanning for any titles that stuck out. A few of the titles were in English or Spanish. Kokichi was no help, and between Mondo and Kaede, the two of them could only tell that they said something about ‘sparkling moon justice’ or something.

Which didn’t sound helpful, so they were passed over. Along with about fifty thesauruses.

_Trying to sound smart by using big words, Monokuma?_

_Only a totally hack writer would do that kind of thing._

There was a laptop sitting on a table, which was an obvious first thing to try. When it booted up, however, all that displayed was a desktop with no icons, no files, no programs, nothing. A blank slate. There was no value in the computer itself.

Until Kaede knocked something loose, was nearly buried in an avalanche of horrible books… and a small black and white flash drive landed on her chest.

Worked like a charm.

A file browser popped up, and there were two files available from the flash drive.

One named **AKAMATSU** , and the other called **OOWADA**.

There was no file under **OUMA**.

“Kokichi, were you the first one in here?” Kaede asked.

“... Does it matter?”

“It matters because if there was a third file here, and you watched it and then deleted it, you’re going back to the Brig for tampering with critical evidence,” Kaede said.

“Then in that case, no way! Mondo found it first. I came in afterwards like a wrecking ball and helped out.”

Mondo sighed. “I can confirm that. Guy really loves those little Monokuma statuettes you can find throughout this place. Tried collecting them all before he came here.”

_That explains why those kept vanishing._

_Wow, he’s good at getting around without being noticed._

Kaede and Mondo stared at each other.

It was just a file apiece for them, then. There was little point wondering why, or what the implications of that could be. They were on a ticking clock, with no clue how much time was left before Usami would burst in and ruin the parade.

“Ladies first,” Mondo said with a shrug.

Somebody very familiar popped up on screen.

Mondo said, “Hey, it’s… you?”

Kaede smiled bitterly. “Not quite.”

Of all the people Kaede was expecting to see, Keiko was about at the bottom of the list. Especially if her suspicion was right, and this video was some kind of ‘motive’ used in the previous Killing Game.

_“Hey, Kaede. This is, like, my fifth take. It’s clear I have no fucking clue what to say. Especially to you.”_

Kaede stared at the screen blankly. “Just figured that out, huh?”

“Do you, uh, want some privacy?” Mondo rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” Kaede lied. “... Besides, I’m totally watching yours.”

“Heh. Fair enough, sister.”

For once, Kokichi didn’t chime in with some brilliant insight. He just shut his mouth and watched, going between looking at Kaede for her reaction, to the laptop’s screen. Where a girl who looked very much like her continued speaking.

 _“- long as I avoid the Naughty Words, I shouldn’t get censored by the network.”_ Keiko shrugged. _“I know what I can’t say, but that’s not the hard part. So, whatever. I’ll just come right out with it. Apparently, it’s not genetic. We just both happened to be immune.”_

Immune?

_“Figures, right? One in ten thousand are immune, and bam, twins both win the lottery. God’s a real son of a bitch sometimes. Shame I didn’t start playing the piano when I was one, or I’d be where you are now.”_

“But you’re not,” Kaede said, as if the screen could hear her.

 _“If you’re wondering where I am, don’t. We’re moving every few hours. Eventually that might not cut it, but shit. By that point, I’ll be the least of your worries. If I ever was one. Oh, and don’t worry. Mom and Dad are here.” Keiko waved off-camera. “They just wanted me to do this. You know how they are.”_ She rolled her eyes. _“So I guess that’s some good news. Hey, your family’s still alive!_

_Ahem. If now’s the not the time for it, then literally when, right? So, here goes. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”_

_That_ was something Kaede had never heard out of Keiko’s mouth before.

_“Being jealous of you was stupid. After all, what you’re going to go through is way tougher. All we can end up doing is dying. That’s not so bad, right? Especially since **mankind deserves damnation.**_

_Sorry, I know you hate that. I guess that whole deal doesn’t matter now. I guess nothing down here does. So, uh. Live on, Kaede. Survive. Do whatever you gotta do. And when you get to **the new world-** ” _

A buzzer sounded.

_“Right, fine. Sorry. Running long anyhow. Here’s your prize for bothering to listen, if indeed you still are. Your part of the code is **‘Keiko’**. Hey, I didn't pick it. Good luck, sis. You’ve always had good luck.”_

Kaede stared at the screen as it cycled back to the video player’s menu. “Just like you’ve always had bad luck.”

“Hey, Kaede, are you alright…?” Mondo asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We don’t have time for me to get all tearful. Luckily I’m done wasting tears on that failure. I have been done with her for a long time.” If Kaede kept telling herself that, it might be true eventually. “I’d just like to know what ‘immunity’ she was talking about. And what that ‘code’ thing was about. Or if yours has something like it.”

“Just one way to find out,” Kokichi said, cheerfully clicking the second icon.

Mondo’s video opened on a strange note. Bodies piled up in an alleyway, all of them wearing Monokuma masks. The camera panned over, and showed a motley collection of stereotypical tough-guys in the same white jacket Mondo sported.

They were led by a smaller, thin guy, with white hair. Honestly, he was a lot more pretty, and less bulky, than Kaede expected, yet he spoke with an air of authority and familiarity. He also held a flag with him, and it fluttered dramatically in the breeze.

_“Hey, boss. Guess not all of those fucking freaks got the memo ‘bout the war bein’ over. Some just bungled up their suicides, and wanted to ask our help finishing the job. As you can see, we’re still keeping busy takin’ out the trash. Although these guys ain’t dead, yet.”_

“Takemichi, you crazy motherfucker.” Mondo grinned. “Head of my elite guard, you know. Come on, turn the camera round. Let me see all your ugly mugs. It’s been too damn long!”

As if this Takemichi heard him, Mondo’s apparent second-in-command brought the camera around over the assembled gangsters. _“It’s not all sunshine, though. The fuckers got some of us. Shinji, Eiji, Jiro, shit. Just take a look. I waited as long as I could to make this, but if they ain’t here now, they ain’t coming.”_

Mondo’s expression darkened.

Before this, he had to know it was possible that the Ultimate Hunt or Despair or whatever went after his gang. He said it himself, his guys were too tough to get taken down.

Yet learning this was wrong had to come, understandably, as a blow to the big guy.

 _“Don’t start cryin’ like a woman over us,”_ One of the other tougher types said, sporting a pompadour that was only slightly less absurd than Mondo’s. Which was presumably why Mondo got to be leader. _“That’s never been our way.”_

 _“What’s happening to us doesn’t matter, anyhow. We got the doc to check us out, and no dice.”_ Takemichi coughed up a bit of his own blood, and one of his friends rushed to his side. _“No, damnit! We gotta do this. I gotta do this. I’m the only one who can carry this flag. It was our promise, between men._

_I know you can’t help worryin’, you wouldn’t be our leader otherwise. But we’ll make it. You gotta live on. Survive, start your own gang out there, I don’t know. Just keep riding at full speed, and don’t let what happened with Daiya bring you down. You gotta keep going, for all the people who didn’t make it. All the people who ain’t gonna make it, with the meteors and the virus.”_

There was shouting in the background.

_“No matter many morons we need to beat up. Hopefully this gets through. Listen up, meathead. Your part is in fact called **‘Daiya’.** Some sense of fucking humor they got, huh? At least you’ll never forget it. Stay strong. Keep fighting for us, and never give up.”_

_“Hey, asshole,”_ Somebody yelled from off-camera. _“Nice hair. I think we’ll cut it off… at the neck!”_

_“... The **fuck** did you say about my hair?!”_

The video cut out as the scuffle began.

Kaede wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure of what she felt. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure about these videos! For one thing, if her hunch was right, and this involved the previous killing game led by Junko… “What kind of _motives_ are these?”

“... Huh?” Mondo was distracted, too, but he glanced over at her when she spoke up.

“If these are actually **motive videos** , they’re not very good. I mean, we’re worried for them, but they say not to worry? They tell us to keep going, to live on? Shouldn’t it be like ‘if you wanna find out what happened to them, you’d better kill somebody’? All they tell us to do is survive. Which I guess works, but…”

Kokichi tried to dab away tears at the corners of his eyes while making it look like a casual, dismissive gesture. That was interesting, what brought that reaction from the heartless clown? His normal reaction to human suffering was to pull up a chair and enjoy the show.

In fact, for a while now, his eyes had been a little on the watery side.

He still managed snappy comebacks as ever, and Mondo was almost certainly too wrapped up in his video to notice.

“What, you don’t like Monokuma’s video skills? That’s the least of our problems.”

Now wasn’t the time to confront Kokichi, though. He’d just lie anyhow.

“No, I’m saying that I don’t think these are the result of Monokuma. I mean, first off, how did he, or anyone, get a hold of the videos if Junko was the one who-”

The door flew open, and Usami arrived.

The party was officially over.

Both Kaede and Mondo sprang to their feet, like kids caught smoking behind the school by their middle school vice principal. Not that Kaede knew what that feeling was like, thanks to freaking Keiko-

Kokichi didn’t even stand up from his own seat he’d pulled up alongside them.

“Get behind me, Kaede,” Mondo said, cracking his knuckles.

“What about little old me?~” Kokichi asked, and was ignored.

“Now listen here, Usami, I ain’t gonna let you-”

“I’m not mad.”

“Huh?’

Usami shook her head. “This has all been the result of my failures. I see that now. Even though this incident and the previous violent outbursts could be blamed on Monokuma, I failed to stop them. I allowed an environment where despair could grow.”

Kaede peeked out from around Mondo’s muscular figure. “Just for the record, I wasn’t cool with what Maki did. But once it started, well. What did you expect?”

“She was hoping you’d sit there like good little pets and wait for your owner,” Kokichi said.

“You’re right, Miss Akamatsu. Nobody could pass up an opportunity like that. An opportunity to reach out to the truth, even if it’s filtered through Monokuma’s disgusting fetish for despair. Even if my wishes were only to protect you all, keeping you ignorant hasn’t worked. In fact, it may become impossible soon, with how compromised the system is…”

“So fucking tell us,” Mondo said. “Enough bullshit. Enough dancing around. You’re telling us our secrets are dangerous, but I just came out and said mine. Are you really saying you can’t nut up and do the same?”

“... Does Usami even have… Nevermind. Mondo’s right, Usami! I want to be your friend. I’m not saying friends always have to share everything, but you’ve gotta change how things are going. We’re falling apart!”

“I couldn’t care less about friendship,” Kokichi added, “But I’m still super curious! So c’mon, c’mon! Do it!”

Usami, to Kaede’s surprise, agreed to these demands. At least in principle.

“It’s time to make a change. Come on, the others have already been, uh, escorted out by my copies. Lasers may have been involved. Oh, don’t worry, they’re not hurt. Miss Harukawa and Miss Oogami were just very… tough.”

“I’d have fought you off, too,” Mondo insisted. “If you hadn’t given up and surrendered!”

“... Indeed. Let’s go back and assemble a group meeting. I can’t promise immediate results. However, there’s going to be a change. Soon. Very soon. You’ll know everything you could have possibly wanted to know, and so much more.”

Usami turned and led them back to the elevator, and from there, out of the Funhouse and back into dim daylight.

“You’ll know so much, that you’ll beg me to take it all away. Just like you did before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. We're rapidly approaching the one year anniversary of the Voyage, and look how far we've come. Since there was only one Free Time Event round in Act 2, it's time to make some of that up. I think now would be a very _interesting_ time to hear from everybody, considering the gang will have some downtime for a bit before the next plot beat is dropped on them.
> 
> So! Who do you think **Kaede** and **Makoto** should hang out with, and who do you think should visit **Shuichi** and **Izuru**?
> 
> Voting is now **CLOSED** , thanks for your comments and feedback!


	41. 3-4. Free Time Events VI (Multiple)

When Byakuya Togami _pulled off his own face_ , it was pretty dramatic.

The skinny version of Byakuya, now revealed to be the one and only authentic son of the Togami line, had known beforehand. In fact, he’d told everyone. Just as the larger imposter had done right back to him. Accusing him, bantering like they were brothers, talking down to everyone else.

Some reveals shook the Ultimates to their cores. Others just were not as shocking, compared to that.

As it turned out, the best way to hide a needle wasn’t in a haystack.

It was in the midst of a tropical hurricane.

The Ultimate Imposter had longer black hair, but the same pudgy build. His physical form was the same, and he was still in that big white suit that he’d come to know so well. The Ultimates weren’t ones to have a variety of outfits, for the most part. What variety there was went up in flames along with the hotels.

It was what they had on, or hospital gowns.

At least the hospital had plenty of showers, and parts of the hot springs had survived in a usable form. If they lost access to hot showers and meals, then they’d really get a taste of that authentic war refugee experience. Makoto wasn’t looking forward to that.

“Ibuki has _**questions**_.”

The Ultimate Imposter nodded solemnly. “I wanted to apologize to everyone for this bad charade. But Ibuki, you especially deserve nothing but my most sincerest apologies. For leading you on-”

“How did you keep that mask on during… uh…” Ibuki looked around at everyone, and turned red. “Nevermind about Ibuki’s questions, it can wait! … You’re really the Ultimate Imposter, huh?”

Makoto sweatdropped.

_Make up your mind, Ibuki._

The Ultimate Imposter nodded.

“You heard it here first, listeners,” Mahiru said into her microphone, which was still held by a plentifully-grumbling Hiyoko. Seeing them do the same kind of things they were doing before all these big incidents was somehow comforting. Not to mention, it everyone in the hospital, and now the Brig as well, knew what was going on instead of just being in the dark. “One of my own classmates has turned out to be… well. Maybe it’s not the most surprising thing ever. But it’s still a big scoop!”

Mahiru seemed like she was doing okay. Some of that was probably a front, but Makoto had to believe in her. She was tough as nails, and strong enough to still be deeply compassionate beneath that rough exterior.

_She’ll be okay. We have to believe everyone will be okay, as long as we get this supposed ‘breathing space’._

_As long as some new tragedy doesn’t happen for at least maybe a little freaking while?_

Angie raised her hand, swaying side to side in a way that probably wasn’t caused by all her plentiful drinking. Byaku… the Imposter called on her like a teacher would in grade school.

“We had a perfectly good Truth and Reconciliation not long ago. Not to sound bitter or anything, the show still went off splendidly. It was a top-class show. Can Angie still ask why you decided to wait until now to come forward? Is there a reason for that?”

“Was that really something you could call ‘perfect’ or even ‘good’?” Hiro whispered, nudging Makoto in the side.

 _“Compared to the alternative, sure,”_ Makoto replied.

“I didn’t want to get in way,” The Imposter said. “That might sound absurd, but with how fast events had unfolded, and with my own paranoid nature… it was difficult to step forward. That just means I know how hard it was for everyone who did come forward with their secrets.” He nodded to Ibuki, who blushed again and tried to hide under the table.

This was indeed a time of painful revelation.

Fear of the past brought out the worst in some. Unimaginable horrors had stood alongside them as a friends. Pretending everything was fine until one day, it wasn’t. People nearly died in the violent incidents that ensued. Both of Makoto’s significant others had been caught up in terrifying ordeals.

_I wasn’t able to do anything for either of them. Some boyfriend I turned out to be._

Just because a thought was absurd didn’t stop it from happening inside a grief-stricken boy’s mind. The same way he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more about Nagito. Something, anything, to stop him from masterminding those incidents.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Even in the face of all that, they had endured.

There were those in the group stepped up to meet each crisis with determination and kindness. They bid defiance to despair, just as the Ultimates did before. They cared for the sick. They rescued the victims. They punished the culprits of those incidents together.

They refused to give in to Monokuma’s design. Nor would they fit inside the padded playpen designed by Usami. They fought for the truth!

That too was expected, though, by the therapy program they were a part of. They needed to learn the true circumstances that brought them to this mysterious island in the middle of nowhere. Gopher Island, the only place they could survive. Of course they would investigate, until finally they knew all the answers.

Usami had always planned to give them, by the end.

So she said.

“I had nothing,” The Imposter explained. “I was nothing. So I took the most lofty thing I could find, that I might lift myself up.” He turned to Byakuya. “Your good name. It was worth a thousand bank vaults’ worth of gold. I’m afraid I may have, with this deceit and other actions, damaged what I ‘borrowed’.”

Byakuya shook his head. “They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. That’s yet another nonsense bit of ‘commoner wisdom’, but at least you tried. I’ll respect usurpation a thousand times more than those who inherit great empires.”

The two of them started as a squabbling comedy duo, but even Byakuya, the real one, couldn’t maintain that dislike over time.

Makoto smiled. “It’s like you told me about that ‘competition’ to become the Togami heir, Byakuya.”

“Shut up. We’re not friends. We’re not having a heartwarming scene.”

“That’s not your call to make, dude!” Leon laughed, and clapped Togami on the back, earning him a death glare.

“When it comes time to ‘vote people off the island’, one way or another, Kuwata. You will be first.”

“I love you too, buddy!”

“I’m noticing significantly less shock and anger than I expected,” The Imposter said, bemused. “After all the talk of traitors. After being betrayed, after all that happened. Don’t you all have some kind of adverse reaction to ‘I was a lying backstabber the whole time’?”

“You didn’t tell us the truth, but you never betrayed us. I know that for sure.”

That was right. Makoto couldn’t agree more with… Chiaki?

_“Chiaki?!”_

At the entrance to Central Park, shambling towards the group, was none other than Chiaki herself. The fact that she had shown up to the meeting, defying all expectation, was more of a shock than Byakuya’s, er, the Imposter’s reveal.

There was no easy way to put it.

Chiaki looked really bad.

She was no stranger to sleepless nights, but it legitimately looked like she hadn’t slept one big since the flashback light, days ago. There were massive bags under her eyes, which were sunken and sullen. She walked like a zombie. Normally, her hoodie being up and over he messy purple hair, with those cat ear things, was intensely cute. Now, it was just another little distressing detail.

The Imposter and Ibuki both, on their own, moved through the crowd towards Chiaki out of concern. It was natural they’d be the first there for their classmate, even if nearly everyone present had been made to, well.

Share Chiaki’s pain.

It wasn’t fair, but Makoto couldn’t look at the Ultimate Gamer without remembering.

It wasn’t even his own memory, but it remained horrifyingly vivid.

“Are you alright, Chiaki?!” Ibuki said. “You sure don’t look it!” Nice and subtle as always. At least Makoto didn’t yell things like that at people-

Chiaki stared at Ibuki. “You once told Hajime that finding his talent didn’t matter. Or at least, that he didn’t need to worry about it. Because the Hajime before you was your friend, and that was the ‘real him’ as much as anything. Right?”

“Ah, right…”

Hajime, huh.

 _There_ was a name not to mention to the Ultimates, after the flashback.

“The same is true for you,” Chiaki said. She reached out, and took one of the Imposter’s meaty hands. “So, hello there. My name is Chiaki Nanami. I’m the Ultimate Zombie. I apparently died a while back, but forgot. What’s your name?”

The Imposter started down at her in astonishment.

He burst out laughing.

_Damn. If even Chiaki can still show signs of life, what the hell are any of us getting so mopey about? What am I feeling such self-pity over?_

Chiaki shifted the mood of the entire meeting, just like that.

“I have no name,” The Imposter said. “Even if we had all our memories back, I couldn’t begin to tell you. All I know is that I’m tired of lying. I won’t lie anymore. Not to anyone.”

“ _‘Hey there, The Imposter’,_ ” Leon tried, scrunching up his face. “Not feeling it.”

“It’s better than having to keep track of two identical people,” Kazuichi said. “At least now, I know you’re a damn liar! I prefer that to people who pretend otherwise. Hey, why not just keep your title, and like, decide on a name later? When we don’t have stuff to do?”

 _Whoa. Where did **that**_ _come from-_

“Kazuichi,” Celeste cautioned him. “Now is not the time for such displays. For the sake of the group, then, let us consider this matter resolved, and move on to pressing issues.”

"Tch. Fine..."

“Not like we don’t have a lot to talk about.” Kaede coughed. “Ahem. We’ve completed our first survey of both islands! We’re gonna have to go back over these places a bunch. Kyouko’s going to focus a lot on like. Junko’s lab. And the Funhouse. Obviously. But with that said, we have at least some idea what’s going on.”

“How do we know Usami won’t just destroy evidence?!” Mondo demanded.

Kaede turned to Usami. “Good question. If you’re serious about wanting to work with us now, then it has to start here. I know you weren’t happy with what happened, but you need to promise not to tamper with the Funhouse. Leave the stuff for us to investigate on our own.”

Usami agreed. “I already said that my previous methods were ineffective. Again and again, all it led to was more misery. With that in mind, I promise not to interfere with clues.”

Kaede nodded. ‘Thank you. Now. Let’s get everyone on the same page. **Sixth Island** was devoted entirely to a huge theme park, called **Nezumi Park**. We found a functional **roller coaster** , a big locked **castle** that may just be for scenery, like the old ruin of HPA. Or it might be super important. But the point is we can’t get in yet. Of course, that damn **Funhouse** I talked about is there. Oh, and a **water park** area. Those are the five landmarks that have been designated on your maps.”

“It may be rude of me to say, but I’m not sure if taking things easy at an amusement park is warranted right now,” Mikan remarked in concern.

“If anything, you need a break more than ever, sister,” Hiro said, patting her on the back too hard in a very Leon-esque fashion. Class One’s biggest dudebros (among stiff competition) were rubbing off on each other. The laughing clairvoyant didn’t see it, but Makoto caught the twin death glares shot his way by both protective girlfriend Tenko… as well as the nurse herself.

Who looked well and truly fed up with, well, life.

No wonder.

Running into Mikan in a dark alleyway like that would have been more terrifying than facing down some of the actual psychos stuffed away in the Brig.

Aside from poor Tsumugi...

At least Mikan managed to wash off the blood from those horrible, but life-saving, operations. Head Nurse Angie’s clothes were still stained pink all over.

_Hang on, all the surgery was already done when she took over._

_Angie, why do you have all that blood on you-_

“It’s something to do that hasn’t been blown completely to Hell,” Akane said. “Sounds like fun. How about that other island, Kaede?”

“Right. I forgot how sidetracked we can get sometimes.” Kaede rolled her eyes. “ **Seventh Island** has the third round of Ultimate Labs, apparently freshly constructed. They sure aren’t in ruins like the rest. Eleven labs in total, including **mine**. I’ll finally get to hold an actual piano concert for you all sometime! Ahem. As for the others, in no particular order; **Angie, Ibuki, Kokichi, Junko, Nekomaru, and Kirumi** all got their own labs. And as you’ve heard, the **Tech Center** is made out of the labs of **Miu, Kazuichi, Chihiro, and Kiibo** all put together.”

“I propose we name it Silicon Valley,” Kokichi said. “For that big-titted urinal cake!”

Miu shivered in excitement, even as she tried to bite back. “C-Can it, you demonic gremlin! … I guess I wouldn’t mind that…”

Makoto wasn’t sure about following Kokichi’s suggestions about anything, but the group found it funny.

So it stuck.

Silicon Valley it was.

“The Labs should improve our quality of life here,” Celeste said. “While the loss of my own was most unfortunate, I can at least pretend to be happy for you all.”

“We’ll need to decide whether it’s open season now that we’ve explored,” Kaede said. “... Although I have to admit, it’s obvious what my vote is gonna be. Let’s handle that afterwards. We found clues, that plaque and the videos, of course. And that file in Junko’s Lab that Angie reported on. But no more flashback lights or anything.”

“The flashback lights have been hit-or-miss,” Usami admitted.

_That’s one way to admit the last one gave us mental trauma._

‘I guess they never ‘miss’, huh?” Monokuma asked, giggling to himself over his sheer genius-level wit.

 _“Dead meme!”_ Kokichi yelled. _“Down in front!”_

Monokuma sighed. “Everyone’s a critic.”

Usami glared at the two-tone bear. “One of the gifts you can thank this hateful Monokuma for is messing with my memory-tech… after you’ve all forgotten the past. This explains a lot of the difficulty we were having getting flashback lights to show the proper things, or their adverse effects on certain students.”

Makoto glanced over at Chiaki, who was staring a hole through Usami. The stuffed rabbit made a point of not looking over at her.

“Is there anything you _don’t_ plan to blame on Monokuma?” Maki asked.

“Your rebellion,” Usami shot back, instead of quivering and shaking and talking about love-love. “That may have come about because of Monokuma’s meddling, but you all played right into his hands.”

“If that’s true, then we should be grateful. We got some valuable intel,” Rantaro said. “Luckily, Mahiru here didn’t need to take photos of everything this time. Both of us were needed by Kyouko for questioning. And we also needed a damn break after what happened. You probably just figured out that destroying the evidence wasn’t gonna work anymore, right Usami?”

Usami shook her head. “Blame me all you want. Doubt me all you want. Just know that soon, you’ll have your precious truth.”

“How soon?” Kaede pressed.

“That depends on Miss Iruma, Mister Souda, and Alter Ego.”

“Huh?”

All eyes went to the two members of the Tech Trio who were well enough to attend the meeting. Chihiro was still laid up in the hospital, although he was recovering well. Presumably, that was why Usami installed Alter Ego in the newly-discovered Tech Center, so that he could lend his programming ability to… whatever was going on.

“It… is?!” Miu froze up under the sudden scrutiny. “H-Hey! Who gave you permission to blabber so early, rabbit-shit?!”

“The four labs of the Technical Center have been given everything they need for the next step,” Usami explained. “Putting it together is entirely in your hands. From this point on, you won’t believe what’s to come unless you earn it yourselves. So, I’ve placed the truth of the outside world within that next step.”

“Even when you’re explaining, you don’t explain,” Leon grumbled. “Kaz, what’s all this about?”

“I haven’t been over there yet,” Kazuichi replied. “But from what Miu told me, I’m starting to get the idea.”

Miu mumbled, _“... A virtual world...”_

Kokichi blinked. “What was that? Speak louder, you useless slut.”

“I’m gonna build a fucking virtual reality game! A simulation we can all escape into. Another world! A new world, even! One free of violence or stuffed bears! There! I said it! That’s what Usami wanted from me.”

She sure had said it.

Whether anyone _believed_ it was another question.

It sounded a little on the impossible side, but Miu was convinced she could make it work, with the new technology. She took awhile just to convince everyone she wasn’t joking, explaining how she was going to build a so-called ‘digital world’.

“All four of our Labs have pieces of the puzzle,” Miu said. “Chihiro being down sucks, but we can probably make the little…” She glanced over at Sonia, “Wonderful and valid boy, do some programming in his bed or something. Worse comes to worse, we got his AI. AI are made of numbers, so it should be good shit.”

_I appreciate you making things simple for, say, laypeople in the audience. Like me. But that explanation doesn’t really fill me with confidence._

_Actually, I still don’t have any clue what you’re saying!_

_A virtual world?!_

“Is this really happening?” Mahiru wondered out loud.

“Consider this the next **progress gate** ,” Usami said. “Part of it, anyhow. We’ll talk more about that later, too. But for now, a goal will unite everyone and bring us together. So, our goal is to complete preparations for activating the Socialcognitive Communication Simulator!”

Hiro glared. “SCP?! You’ve gotta be kidding! Not again! Anything but that! I still want those wonderfully clear memories and predictions back, god damnit! Why can’t I remember any of that since the Despair Disease was cured?!”

“Sorry, bud, it would mess with the narrative way too much,” Monokuma said. “So your memories had to vanish to the same place I send people who talk about how they’re going to ‘end this Killing Game’. Upupu.”

“Hey, you’ve been damn quiet and obedient lately,” Mondo said. “Ain’t caused a fuss or anything. What’s with that? Aren’t you gonna pull some more shit? Make us try and kill each other?”

Monokuma shrugged. “Why bother, if Usami’s going to do my job for me?”

Sonia clutched her chest. “You do not mean...”

“That’s right. You guys aren’t gonna have a good time in there. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you’re gonna have a bad time. All I need to do is sit back, get some popcorn, and enjoy the ride.”

_That’s not ominous at all._

It was clear what Usami refusing to abandon them meant.

It meant she set the agenda. Even if the name was changed to something shorter by popular vote on the spot. Regardless of the students’ disbelief, or whether it was actually possible to create some kind of virtual reality thing at all, the **Programworld Project** was on.

It was what Usami wanted, which meant there wasn’t a way to stop it. Not to mention, the prospect of real answers being in that fake game world, presented to them if they played through areas and explored and solved Usami’s puzzles, was too juicy to pass up.

If this was the form Usami wanted to present it in, for whatever reason, well. Then that’s how it was. Considering recent events, nobody was going to protest too hard over the prospect of a world free of killing and stuffed animals anyhow.

Even if it was one that would only exist in headsets and circuits.

_One thing you’ve got to give the real world. It doesn’t vanish during a power outage._

It was an insane proposition. The sort of thing Makoto heard about in anime and video games a lot, but not something real life should ever have. On this island, that just meant it went on the pile with all the others. At least this one sounded appealing for once, so the Council approved the project.

“We will place resources and talent at your disposal, Director,” Gundham nodded solemnly. “Use whatever alchemic arts you must ,but make haste. Finally, the reason for our suffering will be unveiled! Let us herald a bloody banquet in an alternate dimension!”

Because what Miu needed was an ego boost and authority over others.

_I see more working with Miu’s big metal nuts in my future. Maybe I’m psychic too._

The voting was simple after that. The new islands were opened. Junko’s Lab and the Funhouse would remain limited to Security personnel for investigation. Otherwise, people could come or go as they pleased.

As for the matter of the prisoners, Kaede suggested they put off any long-term decisions or trials or anything until the group had learned whatever the ‘truth of the outside world’ was and memories had been restored. Then, they could make something that resembled an informed decision. Until then, they would continue to hold the prisoners in cells and wait. Although Kyouko would arrange for more visits and interviews in the days ahead.

“So, like I asked before,” Kaede asked, “Miu, how long?”

“Story of my life! Ahem. Should be like, a week, maybe?” Miu shrugged, and was very busty. Those two facts would seem very related for anyone who was staring at the time, considering the effect. “And before you ask, most of this shit is already assembled. Or it’s ready to go, and just needs final assembly. Most of this time will just be Alter Ego checking to make sure there isn't some horrible catch hidden in the code. We’ve gotta run a check to remove dangerous items, after removing literally the very concept of violence from the game itself. And we’ve gotta set up VR gear and, like. Meatspace and mechanical stuff! So much stuff to do. So just wait calmly, until your goddess is ready to unveil her finished product!”

There was nothing more to be done.

New areas were opened, but their situation remained unchanged.

The plan was still ‘wait patiently’.  
  
In the meantime, the Ultimates could sit back and let out the breath they’d been collectively holding.

For a while.

-

“Morning, sleepyhead!”

Shuichi woke up to Kokichi hovering centimeters above his face. Shuichi didn’t startle or push Kokichi away; the recovering patient just didn’t have the energy for theatrics. He just stared in surprise as Kokichi backed off, grinning ear-to-ear.

“Visiting hours are nine-to-five, Kokichi.”

“And?”

“It’s seven-thirty.”

“And?”

Shuichi sighed. “Good morning.”

“That’s more like it! Stupid Kaito just didn’t know how to mind his manners, unlike you. Luckily, I’ve got you all to myself!” Indeed, when Shuichi looked over at Kaito’s bed, it was empty.

Plain, messy white sheets. Save for the pink stains.

“He didn’t run off again.”

“Nope! This one is a ‘therapy session’ with Angie. Aka, making him walk up and down the hospital until he starts coughing blood. Very entertaining, I could barely tear my eyes away from the heroic spectacle.” Hopefully, that was an exaggeration. Head Nurse Angie, or really any version of Angie, could be, uh. Extreme. “Then again, I could be lying. Maybe I took him out for getting in the way of our romance.”

“These days,” Shuichi admitted, “I’m not ruling out any possibility. If I asked why you came to visit, would you tell me?”

“Sure!”

“Would it be the truth?”

Kokichi shrugged. “I can’t be held responsible for what Future Kokichi does. That guy’s a lunatic.”

_Ha, ha._

Shuichi was in the mood for comedy bits as much as he was in the mood to be stabbed again. In fact, if he got jabbed with some needles and painkillers, at least he’d enjoy what happened afterwards. Even so, he couldn’t make Kokichi leave, unless he wanted to hit the room’s panic button and see what a frantic Angie looked like.

Which, combined with how it would scare Kokichi off, made the button very tempting. It almost seemed to glow with angelic light through the window. Even if Shuichi knew that drawing the curtains would just reveal more endless clouds, with only the occasional warm ray from the sun allowed to peek through.

However, Shuichi’s natural curiosity, which he was going to feed from now on rather than suppress, demanded answers. It stayed his hand, and got him asking questions.

“What brings you up here, Kokichi?”

The Ultimate Supreme Leader was happy to answer, because he was happy to hear himself talk. “As you already know, I’m the leader of an evil, secret organization. Yet you may be wondering, why doesn’t that organization pop up in all these flashback lights, and stuff?”

‘The thought crossed my mind.”

“Cross no more! It’s because it’s secret, duh. So secret… that if I told you, I’d have to kill you!”

When Maki went ‘Do you want to die?’ it was too far, given recent events. Kokichi making jokes about it went over just as well, but Shuichi had no way to make him stop. Certainly, pointing out that Kokichi was acting improperly had no impact on his behavior. Sometimes it even made him do it more out of pure spite.

Usually when Kiibo was complaining of his robophobic remarks.

“I’d accuse you of making the whole thing up,” Shuichi said. “But it’s tough to find truth from lies anymore. Especially considering you were almost certainly the first one into the Monokuma Archives in the Funhouse.”

Kokichi didn’t miss a beat. “Nope, sorry. Mondo was there first, and I came in later to help the caveman find the goods. I was very helpful, too.”

“No doubt. Even so, the computer had files on it for Kaede and Mondo, even if Monokuma had no way to predict who, specifically, might enter the Archives.”

After all, if he had those two specifically in mind, then they happened to go in, the odds were just too great. There would have probably been at least one other file on the computer. Especially if Monokuma just planted the videos there for anyone who he thought might come by. In that case, they should have found every video for the survey team.

The only remaining conclusion was the possibility that Monokuma set up the room itself to detect who entered, and dispense their motive video accordingly.

A conclusion that was proven false if the computer just had two videos. Kokichi should have gotten a file too, but didn’t. That was the outcome that didn’t square with the other potential explanations. There was a factor Shuichi wasn’t seeing. Something that couldn’t be predicted, like Kokichi’s trickery.

Or something that would lead to Kokichi not having a motive video in the first place.

It was impossible to prove either way.

“It _is_ weird,” Kokichi said. “I wonder why I’m different? Maybe Monokuma just gets me. He understands that I’m better as a despised loner, and seeing some sob story might make you all get soft on me. I’m definitely a fan of his aesthetic. Although my jokes are better.”

“I’ll give you that much.”

“Oh, speaking of giving! We gotta make this official, or else I won’t make progress on your route. Normally you’re the one giving gifts, but I thought I’d steal the protagonist’s role today, and bring you something.”

Shuichi sat up in his bed. “What did you bring?”

With a grand flourish, Kokichi produced… a bottle of water.

“Hey, everyone has so many of these,” Kokichi explained, wagging his finger. “Thanks to you, Makoto, and Kaede. You all could have been a bit more creative, you know!” That was fair, although it was tough to imagine a human being who didn’t have some use for water. It wasn’t exactly an inspired choice for a gift, but it was safe.

It was the kind of thing somebody would use if they maybe weren’t sure about a person or what they liked, or weren’t used to giving, but wanted to make a gesture anyway.

Just for instance.

Shuichi smiled. “While Usami is restocking the hospital kitchen now, so we don’t have to worry about running out, I’ll accept this wonderful gift. I might tuck it away somewhere. Just in case.”

“You’d better be more grateful than that! Instead of dying because you were the boy who knew too much, you get a gift."

Kokichi was behaving the same as always. That was why Shuichi nearly missed the intent, the deeper meaning hidden beneath his actions. Or at least, that was one way of looking at Kokichi. Digging for meaning past the smokescreens he tossed up. It was like applying critical theory to a fictional book or play, something written to be ambiguous.

“Well, if nothing else, I got to see you in a hospital gown, and look at your sleeping face as well as your ‘I just got woke up and want to yell at you but don’t have the energy’ face.” Kokichi put his arms up behind his head casually. “So I think this visit was productive in various ways. I’d better get going, though. I need to level up my social link with others. So my Persona can level up!”

_If anybody on the island’s going to be of the Devil Arcana…_

_It’s probably the actual literal murderers. Maybe even the one sitting in a hospital room like this somewhere. Nagito’s also a good choice for that._

_Try as you might to be bothersome, your bite is so much less than your bark._

It was possible that Kokichi was checking up on him, and showing concern in his own unique pain-in-the-butt way. It was just as possible, and more likely based on all the evidence, that he just wanted to bother Shuichi and flirt. That he was acting on his own, like a kid. Not considering the consequences for others or what was good for them. A purity of selfishness.

It was entirely up to which ‘reading’ Shuichi wanted to go with, since the checkerboard clown would never tell.

He took pride in being that way. To Kokichi, that was being consistent. In a way, it was something Shuichi could trust. In a world that revolved madly, with revelation after revelation and more dark secrets ahead, Kokichi was consistently inconsistent.

Shuichi had to admit. The island would be a more boring, and ironically, far less colorful, place. If Kokichi was to change, fit in, and go with the flow.

 _That_ would be a far worse lie than any of his usual.

-

_**“Don’t ever fuckin’ say that‘ bout my best friend!”** _

He didn’t have to be the Ultimate Musician to hear that from down the hallway. Makoto picked up the pace in alarm. After all, that wasn’t just yelling in a hospital. It was Mondo Oowada doing the yelling. Something was clearly wrong.

Makoto didn’t bother knocking at Chihiro’s room, just pulling the door open.

To reveal Chihiro in his bed, Taka sitting in a chair by the window, and Mondo on his feet, face turning purple with rage.

“I won’t let anyone shit-talk my little bro. Especially you, doofus. Don’t matter what kind of excuses you make, you’re a hero! Why can’t you just relax for one fucking second and… The fuck do you want?!”

Makoto regretted his intrusion, as Mondo’s eyes narrowed and he raised his chin in a mixture of rage and contempt.

“Uh, hi,” Makoto said slowly, as if sudden movement, or waving a red flag, would provoke a charge. “I heard the, uh, yelling. Is everything okay in here…?”

“Fuck off, Makoto!” Mondo roared. “This is between family. Once you two idiots joined the Crazy Diamonds, you basically said I’m the boss, right?! That means you can’t argue with me about this shit!”

“Not really,” Ishimaru said. Even the man who had to be used to these outbursts was daunted, though. He physically recoiled from the yelling, even though he was no stranger to raising his voice. A lot. “I mean, I am a leader now, bro. I have a responsibility too, just like you.”

“Atua and Angie are _my_ bosses, if you want to put it in those crass terms,” Chihiro said.

Mondo threw up his hands, and stormed out. Nearly through Makoto before the smaller man got the hell out of the way.

“Fine, whatever! I guess I’m just being stupid.”

In his wake was more awkward silence. Makoto had a choice between following the enraged, violent biker gang leader who was known for assaulting smaller things that annoyed him, or going into the room with two of the kinder people on the whole island and talking things out.

It wasn’t a difficult choice.

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asked. “Chihiro, are you okay?”

Chihiro smiled gently. It didn’t reach all the way up to his wide, cute eyes. “I’m apparently recovering well. For somebody who was stabbed in the stomach a bunch. Head Nurse Angie, and yes, she insists people call her that now, says that’s an especially bad place to stab somebody if you want them to live.”

“How does she know that…?” Taka asked in concern.

“That’s not important,” Chihiro replied. “As for Mondo, he’s just shaken up by the video. It’s got to be.”

“That, and he doesn’t like the way you talk about yourself, bro,” Taka said. “Now that you’re okay with people knowing you’re a man, you’ve got to take some manly pride. I do agree with that much.”

Chihiro looked down at his frail, weak, thin body. Or at least, that’s how he probably saw it. Makoto was with Mondo on this. It always hurt to see a treasured friend put himself down, and it was something Chihiro did regularly. Less so now that he was part of the cult. Makoto also wasn’t sure about the whole ‘man’s pride’ thing, or taking it that far, but self-respect couldn’t hurt.

Especially when it was so harshly earned.

“I’m not gonna tell you how to feel,” Makoto said. “I’m just gonna say it, since I haven’t got the chance before. You’re the reason my girlfriend is still alive, Chihiro. So while he’s not great at communicating, I’m with Mondo a hundred percent on this. Saying what you did was ‘nothing’ is just a lie.”

“We have enough liars on this island already,” Taka said. “Well-said, Makoto!”

Chihiro looked away. “I won’t say ‘it was nothing’ or anything like that, okay? If you’re that grateful, Makoto… can I ask a small favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you go calm down Mondo and talk him through this?”

“Almost anything.” Makoto held up his hands. “Kidding! I might get punted, but it’s worth it if I can help you guys get along better. Of everyone, you shouldn’t be fighting or anything like that.” Any drama had to be cleared away fast, so Chihiro could focus on resting and getting better.

As Makoto left the hospital room, he saw Chihiro weakly reach out a hand. Taka grasped it tightly, with tears welling up in his eyes.

Following where Mondo went wasn’t hard, it was like a hurricane swept through the orderly hallways of the huge hospital. Angie was gonna love that. Luckily, Makoto wouldn’t be around to see.

Makoto had to pick up the pace, but he caught up with Mondo near the cafeteria.

“Mondo, hold on!”

“... What.”

He was no longer yelling at the top of his lungs, but that just added to the intimidation factor. Makoto felt like he had to look straight up at the big muscled macho dude. Unlike those protected by his Code, Makoto had every reason to expect to get punched at any second, just to vent his anger. Surprisingly, though, that kept not-happening.

“Let’s get something from Teruteru and sit down. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“What’s it to you? Fine. I can’t go back up there for a while, after storming out like that.”

_Wow, that worked?_

Makoto felt like a dog who’d chased a car. Only to have it stop dead. Which made the dog realize he had no clue what to do next. He found a table that was out of the way, and grabbed a plastic tray of world-class food. That felt like blasphemy, and the Ultimate Chef clearly agreed.

“At least Teruteru’s back to work, right? I missed some of his weird French stuff.”

“Food’s food.”

“Haha… I suppose…”

Beating around the bush didn’t work with Mondo, he responded better to being direct. So after some silent chewing, which maintained the awkward atmosphere, Makoto just came right out with it.

“You were right to get upset, Mondo.”

“Huh?”

“I maybe don’t agree with the way you expressed it, but your heart’s in the right place.”

“Who asked for your input on our personal business, huh?” Mondo cracked his knuckles. “You’re just butting in as you please, and saying whatever you want. Real brave.”

“Not half as brave as facing down that insane snake guy,” Makoto said. “Let’s get serious, Mondo. I’d probably be meddling in stuff even if I didn’t have a reason. That’s just how I am, haha. But if anyone has the right to tell Chihiro off, then it would have to be Sayaka. She can’t be here yet. So I guess it would fall to me or Kyouko. And she’s busy.”

Mondo sighed. “Man’s gotta go what a man’s gotta do. Especially for your woman. Women. I can respect that. Even if it pisses me off in various ways, I can’t get mad at you for being grateful Sayaka came back alive. Shit, I’m feeling the same thing. We came so close to losing them. I still want to break that fucking sissy’s neck, but.”

_If you’re capable of such a thing, you’d better be grateful to Chihiro, Kiyo, you monster. If he was any less of a saint, you’d be dead twice over by now._

Makoto didn’t hold with violence, and thought it wasn’t a way to solve any problem. His mother had taught him that, he’d always held firm to that ideal and tried to be kind to people. It was just hard to maintain that when he thought about Kiyo, or Nagito, or Touko…

Few things in the world were more dangerous than perfectly justified, righteous anger.

“I could have probably guessed, Makoto, but I got it confirmed for me by my right hand man. Some of the Diamonds didn’t come back alive. And that’s just that video, which is old news.” Mondo shook his head. “It was good to see those morons, but now I gotta wonder if we’ll ever meet again.”

Makoto wished he’d been there. Not entirely for selfless reasons or simple curiosity, either. If he had a video, and if that video showed the people most important to him, then…

_Mom. Dad. Komaru._

_Did they go after you, too? No way. There wouldn’t be anything to gain from it. Not to mention, they should have a mega low profile, they’re just ordinary people._

Komaru was _not_ the type to fight some despair army, frankly.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to have so much in common with a dweeb, huh?” Makoto grinned.

“Yeah. I guess not. Shit, man. Maybe you can help. Since you’re dealing with women all the time, you gotta know how to talk about, like. Feelings. And all that shit.”

“I just about get by,” Makoto admitted. “Even if both Sayaka and Kyouko are way bigger badasses than I could ever be.”

“Fair enough. Even so, listen. I just want Chihiro to take some pride. Him and Taka are basically the Diamonds now. If worst comes to worse, and it’s over for the others, then we’re it. Shit, that moron even told me to start a new gang wherever I was, to ‘carry on the memory’ and all that. I guess I could consider that a final request. It means I gotta get those two idiots to start showing some pride.”

It wouldn’t be hard to get pride from Taka. Anyone in Class One already knew how much pride he could have, even before winning a popularity contest and basically having his assumed authority confirmed.

“Not just that, but also… heh. You even get what it’s like to watch somebody you care about join those fuckin’ wierdos.”

Makoto nodded. “That’s true. Although it’s a little better in my case, because she’s totally a spy.”

“Huh?”

Damnit, I’m even picking up Sayaka’s sense of ‘humor’. The problem is, that was really true! And I just told a volatile guy like Mondo…

At least nobody else was around in the cafeteria. Even Teruteru was behind a line of sizzling deep-fryers in the back.

Mondo burst out laughing. “Shit. I’d think you were fuckin’ with me, but that reaction basically confirms it. What, you think I’m gonna rat you out to Angie? Chihiro already told me, and obviously Taka already knows. So don’t sweat it. Shit, the fact that you’d tell me that, even if I’ve got a reputation for not being careful, I appreciate it. Seriously.”

There were ways in which that wasn’t comforting, but at least Makoto could salvage something from his dumb joke. Maybe this would even be a bridge he could build between them.

“I can’t tell you what to say, like preparing you for a speech or something,” Makoto said. “But if you want me to be there, I can help out. And like, interpret. Japanese-to-Mondo dictionary.”

“Hey, _I’m_ not the wierdo in that room! My hair didn’t turn white like an anime character, and I didn’t crossdress for fuckin’ years.”

Makoto could even make a joke without getting decked and passing out for like a day.

That was definitely progress. At least this way, Makoto could carry out Sayaka’s wishes, until she got better. He had to believe the day would come when she’d walk around, talk with people, and just. Come back to them.

When she’d come back to him. When she’d dance on stage again for everybody, in better days.

If Makoto had a redeeming trait, it was definitely his optimism.

And his ability to communicate with big angry boys.

-

With a loud buzzer sound, the gate swing open, admitting her to the right part of this twisting steel labyrinth.

Even if it was absolutely critical to keeping what little peace was left on this war-torn island, Kaede hated the Brig with all her heart. Worse than others, because she had a hand in putting people in there. Even if there was only one ‘maybe’ arrest so far. The rest of the prisoners, and recovering prisoners-to-be, earned their cells through their own crimes.

Past or present.

One incident in particular involved both their current situation, and the terrifying memories recovered via the flashback lights. Kaede took everything that happened while she was ‘asleep’ hard, but this one felt like something of a personal betrayal.

Even if she’d only known Fuyuhiko a tiny bit before all this went down.

She still considered him a friend.

For whatever that was worth anymore.

It was at least worth a personal visit to his cell.

“Hello, Fuyuhiko… and Peko. I didn’t realize you’d been cleared for a visit…”

Kyouko was watching over them from outside the bars. “Hello, Kaede. You’re early. I can get them moved back to separate cells, if you need to talk to him.”

Fuyuhiko bristled at that. “Now, just wait a fucking second, we aren’t animals-”

Kaede held up a hand. “It’s fine. Maybe it’s good that they’re both here, because we need to talk.”

Fuyuhiko was ready to launch into another rant at his jailers, but this act of mercy wasn’t what he expected, and he sputtered out. Peko maintained her ice-cold demeanor as always. Businesslike, matter-of-fact, dead sexy- “An offer from the Council, perhaps?”

Kaede shook her head. “Sorry, but we still can’t decide how to, uh, handle any of these cases. Especially since we don’t know enough about the situation to make any kind of ‘offers’ or decisions. So I guess just consider this a personal visit today!”

“We’re honored,” Fuyuhiko scoffed. “I guess you’re expecting me to spill the beans or something, right?”

Kaede shrugged. “It would be the smart move.”

They were obviously linked. That just made the angle of approach critical. Kaede just had to figure out the connection between Peko and Fuyuhiko, that had driven them to these extremes. She had to find the truth behind it to crack their case.

To do that, Kaede had to be ready to play hardball. To use whatever special bond linked Fuyuhiko and Peko like a weapon, if necessary!

A weapon to crack their stubborn, professional resistance to questioning.

Neither of them were gibbering maniacs or serial killers.They spoke and behaved normally, for their own standards. They had just decided, for their own reasons, and working together closely, to kill Mahiru Koizumi.

“I’ll tell you this much, and this much only,” Fuyuhiko said, feigning disinterest. “Bitch had it comin’. Has. The job was left unfinished, so I’ve gotta get out of here and do it.”

Kyouko glanced up at the invincible metal bars separating them.

“Good luck.”

“Don’t fucking look down on me! The Kuzuryuu Clan has never found a prison that can hold us, anywhere in this rotten world. This Brig won’t be any different!”

Kaede pointed out, “Mukuro hit it with a rocket launcher.”

“The military ain’t shit compared to what my clan can pull out, when the time comes.”

_One thing you can be grateful for, Fuyuhiko. You won’t have to worry about something that’s been on the mind of the others._

_It’s unlikely the Ultimate Hunt was stupid enough to go after_ your _significant others._

“I’ve never heard you boast about your clan before,” Kaede remarked. “Not in over a month of living on this island. That’s interesting, considering how important family connections are to a yakuza.”

This observation surprised Fuyuhiko himself.

“Family, huh.”

He was staring at her a lot.

_Hang on, that thing he said back in the diner…!_

“Natsumi Kuzuryuu,” Kaede said. “You told me back then, before the Ultimate Election… that I looked just like her, right? We know this incident involves her, Rantaro, Mahuru, and Hiyoko all told us everything they overheard that night.”

“... I don’t know what you’re-”

“Just don’t,” Kaede said. “We already know too much for that act to be convincing.”

“You know jack shit about what’s really goin’ on. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be this desperate.”

Kyouko shook her head. “We already know, for instance, that you kept both guns from the break-in at your Lab. Which is just the second floor of Peko’s, which was previously inaccessible. A perfect hiding place that would escape any search we’d possibly carry out. Which makes you not only responsible for your own crime, but for both serial killer incidents.”

Fuyuhiko clammed up. “We’re done here.”

The problem with Kyouko’s bombshell was that it was just a guess. A guess based on the fact that the guns were hidden, Peko’s Lab had a second floor that was sealed off, and their apparent special relationship. If the Labs were built to reflect a person’s characteristics, it was possible.

Essentially, though, it was a bluff. To see what his reaction would be.

A slam dunk. He was really off his game, when normally Fuyuhiko would be acting so much more cocky. He was still resisting, though. Kaede had to break through that resistance.

“Peko isn’t going to talk unless you say it’s okay,” Kaede said. “So you’re the only hope for resolving this. I’m not going to sit here and listen to your childish meltdowns, I have people depending on me. Now more than ever. You know that the smart move is to just cooperate and work this out with the group. It’s best for you, and Peko.”

Hitting all those emotional strings had to break through. Even with somebody as experienced with interrogations as Fuyuhiko.

Kaede could hope, at least. She wasn’t lying there; it really was the only choice.

So much so, that as it turned out, Fuyuhiko wasn’t the one who broke.

Peko said, “Forgive me, young master. But if this goes any further, then the group may take more dire action. I cannot allow that. Even if I must toss away something precious to me, like an order from you, if it’s for your own sake… Kaede. Kyouko. I will talk. Provided you guarantee complete immunity for my young master, on the condition that he not pursue the matter of revenge any further.”

“... Peko! I t-told you, to just shut up! Don’t give them anything! I am ordering you not to!”

“I’m sorry, young master. Even if you must hate me more than you already do, I won’t waver from my duty to your wellbeing.”

“.... Hate you?”

Kaede shook her head. “Peko, it’s amazing that you can think that way. I’d even call it a miracle… but you’re wrong about one thing.”

“I’m wrong?”

The look on Fuyugiko’s face made it clear.

Kaede sighed. “Geeze, and I thought Shuichi was dense about these things. Come on, Kyouko. Turn off the cameras and let’s go for a while.”

Kyouko said, “Is it smart to leave two criminals alone to lay some plan together?”

Kaede stared into Peko’s eyes for a second, then nodded.

“Yeah. I think the smart move is to give these two some time to talk it out. After that… I’ll be back for the final decision. From both of you.”

_In the midst of this horrible situation, maybe something good can come out of it._

_Even if Fuyuhiko wants to pursue this revenge thing all the way, if Peko… yeah. It has to be Peko._

_I’ll put my trust in her._

In the meantime, Kaede had an Ultimate Photographer to check up on.

* * *

_I’d hoped for some peace and quiet._

_How disappointing._

Izuru spoke, apparently to the darkness outside his cell.

“You are of neither **hope** nor **despair**. Your visit is pointless.”

Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Tennis Pro, stepped forward from hiding. His beanie was pulled low over his face, intense beady eyes were fixed on Izuru. As if he was sizing up an opponent across the court.

“Guess I’m losing my touch, if you were able to notice my presence so easily.”

Izuru shook his head. “A normal person would have been fooled. My abilities are limitless, however. It is not your failing, but my success.”

“Limitless, huh? That supposed to make me feel better?” Ryoma sighed. “Is this how I sound to everyone else? Chill out, Shadow.”

A video game reference. How original.

Ryoma rumbled, “I’m just here to pay my respects, from one criminal to another.”

“I see, so that’s your approach. As expected.”

This must be an unsanctioned visit. Kyouko will not be growing this desperate so quickly. According to my prediction, it will take some time more before she would resort to extreme measures. If events wouldn’t overtake her first.

By that point, the battle should already be joined.

That will override such petty concerns as murder and terrorism.

In fact, when the time comes, and he learns the truth that will plunge others into despair, could this unassuming tennis player actually…?

“Well, I’ve also got a reason to be here. Got a bit of a challenge for you,” Ryoma said. “A friendly one, since we’re colleagues in a sense. Or at least, I know what it’s like sitting in a cell, bored out of your mind. Don’t matter if you’re guilty or not. It sucks just the same either way.”

“You’re wondering how much of my boredom is real,” Izuru explained Ryoma’s motivation back to him, based on scant moments of analysis. It was the equivalent of a parlor trick for somebody loved by talent, but it was an effective tactic. “And how much is a bluff. An attitude to keep others away. So you will demand a demonstration of my analytical and predictive abilities.”

Ryoma tipped his hat. “Not bad. Kyouko might get mad later, but maybe it’ll help her investigation, too. I’ve got an incentive for you to play along. You’ve been deprived of information since you got arrested and you dropped that disguise. Play my game, and I’ll tell you how things have gone since then.”

What a foolish risk to take with an unknown quantity. Or it would be, if that mattered.

Izuru shook his head. “Your incentive is unnecessary. First, it is not needed to convince me. The word ‘challenge’ is not applicable to my existence. Although that is not always a positive.”

“Must be tough, being so good at everything. Everyone so envious, afraid of you. I’ll tune up the world’s smallest fiddle. What’s the second reason?”

“Because I already know what’s going to happen. My abilities are real. The culmination of the work that Hope’s Peak Academy has put into the cultivation and research of talent for over a century. So I know without being told that, for instance, you have already uncovered two motive videos on the new islands.”

“Huh.”

Whether this was an example of Izuru using his Ultimate Bluffing ability to draw a response out of Ryoma, or a prediction thanks to his Ultimate Analytical Prowess, was a moot point. However he arrived at the right answer, it was possible even Izuru himself would have trouble distinguishing the method.

The same way a normal person wouldn’t have to think about taking each breath. They probably couldn’t account for the exact way they’d breathed that one time, hours ago.

“So you’re saying I don’t need to tell you anything, but you’ll take my challenge regardless.”

“While the result is obvious, and it will furnish no difficulty whatsoever, you are right about one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s boring in here.”

It was impossible to convey, through words or even his own thoughts, how bored Izuru was. What he would do to alleviate that boredom for even a single moment. Even if he knew, inevitably, that it was bound to return. He knew it with as much absolute certainty as he knew the answer to any question asked of him.

As certain as he was of what Ryoma was about to ask.

“Ask, and I will answer.”

Provided it doesn’t interfere with my goal here, I have no reason to deny you.

Ryoma nodded. “Alright. Two questions. The first, you may already know, depending on how much of your memories you’ve got from before. What’s on my motive video?”

Izuru would have smiled, if he ever did.

“Nothing. One was not made for you, as it was unnecessary.”

Ryoma looked away. “Unnecessary because nobody in the damn world cares about me, or because I don’t need an incentive to kill?”

“Yes.”

You knew what the outcome of this would be before you stepped foot in here. Yet, you came anyway. That self-defeating curiosity, facing the truth devoid of hope, it could almost be called courage or resilience.

“What is your second question?” Izuru prompted.

With the same passion one would display picking an option in a dialogue tree in a roleplaying game. Especially when one has a walkthrough handy, and knows the result. However, asking was a necessary component of advancing the conversation, so it happened.

“What’s gonna become of me?” Ryoma asked. “Is there any reason for me to actually keep fighting? To do my best, with everyone else, like Sonia keeps telling me? Am I going to find something to live for?”

_You aren’t the first one to consult me, as one would an oracle._

_My divination is determinate, though. Based in the cold light of reason and knowledge, not superstitious guesswork._

_In another life, you might have gone to the Yonaga girl for answers instead._

“No.”

Ryoma fell silent, nodding to himself. “It’s not like I have the right to be disappointed. Never had prospects to begin with. At least, not since I threw it all away on petty revenge. It is still pretty cold hearing that from you.”

“Let me finish,” Izuru said. “You won’t find something to live for. But by the end of this voyage, you will find something to die for. Something worth giving up your life.”

Ryoma scoffed. “Oh yeah? Sounds real heroic of me. I dunno if that’s in the cards.”

“It’s a certainty that cannot be altered. You will be offered the chance to sacrifice yourself. You could reject it and let another fill your place, but by the time the choice comes around, you will not. You will accept. You will only truly understand the value of your life when you have chosen to cast it aside.”

Ryoma fell silent again. For much longer.

Izuru could have peered into his mind with analysis, but it was pointless to do so. Whether or not he took this prediction seriously, the Ultimate Prisoner had found the answer he really wanted.

“I don’t know if you’re spouting bullshit, or trying to mess with me. Hell, at this point, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take it regardless. Thank you.”

“You’re satisfied?”

“I’m done bothering you.”

Izuru nodded in acknowledgement, and Ryoma took his leave back into the shadows. The little man had been correct in his own forecast. Kyouko wasn’t happy about this unscheduled visit, but there was little she could do once it had already happened.

_You can’t change the past._

_It will catch up to you._

Izuru reached into his pocket, and sighed aloud to himself in the empty cell.

 _Monokuma still retains your sense of humor, Junko_.

Along with his black suit, Monokuma had given him the heirloom he took on that terrible day. The memory which the others had seen, and which filled them with terror. And a burning need to know the truth, which they would all too soon have.

Regardless, Chiaki would be here, sooner or later, to confront him.

At that time, he could return the Galaga pin to her.


	42. 3-5. Free Time Events VII (Multiple)

Kaede finally agreed to Mikan’s offer and went back to the hospital room.

Even if the memories were terrible, it beat the floor.

At least it gave Kaede an incentive to get out of bed, something she used to struggle with. Back in her cabin, she’d lay around until people came to get her. Now, she had to get it in gear. Rolling out of bed, shambling into the shower, and afterwards, pulling on some of the only clothes she had left.

_So much went up in smoke. I miss those lovely tropical cabins. They had a real charm point that's lacking now._

_Not like I had much in mine aside from like, two dozen of the exact same outfit._

Unlike before, Kaede came and went as she pleased. That was nice. The Despair Disease, and the risk of contagion, was a thing of the past. Somehow. Kaede was grateful to use her own two feet to leave her cushy VIP room, even if she was just going next door.

Before she got there, she ran into Head Nurse Angie.

“Whoa!”

If only she had some of that width as height instead.

“Angie! Are you okay?!” Kaede hurried to pull her up and brush her off.

“Where’s the fire, Kaede?” Angie asked. “Oh, right. You must be eager~”

Kaede blushed, even now. Even after all that had happened, she was still capable of being that much of a girl. “I guess so, haha. You’re still working pretty hard.”

“Either my followers and I help, or Mikan will die,” Angie said, as cheerfully as if she was discussing the permanently terrible weather. The sorrow of circumstances or charged emotions never seemed to get at Angie. “Remember how much Mikan moved you around? That’s way worse for people who can’t move good, and if I don’t, then the sores… Oof.” She had a poker face that reminded Kaede of people like Kyouko and Celeste. “I just don’t want to lose such a valuable follower for silly reasons!”

_So you’d be okay losing them if it was for a good reason?_

“How’s everyone doing?” Kaede asked.

“By now, we can be sure nobody’s gonna die,” Angie said. Once again, in the most breezy and conversational of tones. “Thaaat’s about all I’ve got. Nobody is critical, or terminal, or any of those other bad words. They’re very arousable, though.” Angie squished her cheeks together. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s a real medical term! Look it up!”

“Not like we have Google out here,” Kaede rolled her eyes. “Truly, the biggest issue my constituents are worried about.”

Internet withdrawal was a terrible thing to have to go through at any age.

Angie giggled. “I think my darling Sayaka’s actually doing better than the others, you know. The bullet came right out and didn’t mess up anything permanently, so now she’s just recovering. It’s gonna be a while, but she’s eating. As much as she ever does. You know, the first thing she said today was ‘Will this affect my diet?’”

_That’s a whole other level of scary from the rest of your cult. I can’t help but be a little jealous, especially now. Hopefully Sayaka was just kidding._

“We had some issues with surgery and infection risk with some of the stabbing victims! Oh, and Kiyo being shot full of arrows. Dude’s lucky they weren’t poison-tipped.”

Kaede wasn’t so sure they were all lucky that he survived. Ah well. What was done was done. She’d already argued with the rest of the Council against any decisive action, until they knew what Usami’s secrets were.

Until everyone had their memories back.

“All that stuff was so horrible,” Kaede said. “I can’t believe we’re just chatting about it.”

“It’s a sign that we’re recovering, that we don’t have to avert our eyes from the truth. Anyhow, compared to going to a digital world, people getting hurt isn’t so strange,” Angie said. “Chihiro tried to explain it to me, but I’m just no good with tech stuff.”

_Aren’t you running a hospital full of badly injured people?_

“If Miu, Kazuichi, and Chihiro all say they can make it work,” Kaede said, “That’s all I need to hear. I’ll believe in them. They’re miracle workers. Heck, they were doing cool stuff before we had any resources. Now that we’ve got Silicon Valley, why not?”

The Ultimate Labs were something that Usami had to be praised for.

The Ultimates took her to task a lot, and some of the specific design choices were questionable at best.

_Looking at you, armory full of real guns._

Even so, the Labs were personalized and customized in a way that showed deep care for each Ultimate, and knowledge of their hidden past. The facilities allowed people to practice whatever was important to them, their world-class talent.

When they were in their element, the Ultimates were all Hina in water.

_We’re going to get to see that again, thanks to the waterpark. I didn’t think much of it when we found it, but man. I’m gonna get to see some really nice things if I go when she’s swimming. So, like, any time day or night-_

Angie shrugged. “Oh, one more thing. Shuichi told me that we might already be in a virtual world? What’s all that about?”

_So casual, still. Does it not bother you? The idea that reality is all fake, or what’s happened isn’t real…_

_No. It doesn’t matter how much it bothers me, because that’s nonsense._

_There’s no way we’re in some kind of simulation._

“Shuichi and Kyouko are really good at putting things together, but there’s a flip side to that talent,” Kaede explained. “It means they’ll see something, even where nothing is really there. I mean, it’s not crazy to think there’s something going on. With all these impossible things happening. Like magic?”

“Compared to the miracles Atua weaves, that’s not so hot,” Angie pouted playfully. “I want to say that, buuut even Atua has to admit, shit’s weird. I guess there would be no point in making a game within a game, right? So if we’re just now going to the virtual world, then, like. We probably aren’t already in one.”

Kaede said, “That makes as much sense as anything. Everyone’s seen movies where people go ‘into the Matrix’ or whatever, but I had no clue we were there. Or it was possible in real life. What’s next? Spaceships and laser beams?”

“I hope so," Angie said. “Those are wicked rad.” Her Hope Pad shook and rattled, and Angie pulled it out of her yellow jacket’s pocket. “Ah, duty calls. Will you be attending the morning prayer session, Kaede?~”

_I’ll give you credit, you literally never give up._

“Sorry,” Kaede said.

That one word was enough.

“Aww. Maybe this evening?~ Oh well, all in good time. _Bye-onara~”_

While Kaede rarely passed up a chance to visit Shuichi and Kaito’s room, she didn’t stay long today. Breakfast was only served for certain hours of the day. At least, Teruteru would only cook it in those hours, and loudly complain if anyone had suggestions for his schedule. Or anything. He wasn’t big on customer feedback.

Apparently, things had to be done a certain way to give it ‘big city flavor’.

What _ever._

Meals prepared to perfection by the Ultimate Chef were just another thing that the group only learned to appreciate after it was taken away. Kaede was so damn glad he was back at it. There was no contest between packaged rations and Teruteru’s efforts.

The Hospital’s cafeteria could accomodate everyone at the same time, which at least meant everyone could close their eyes, down out the chrome and glass and metal and smooth, sci-fi curves of all the walls, and just sort of pretend they were back at the Lagniappe.

Leon had even set up electric fans to blow through to get that ‘tropical breeze’.

It might have seemed weird, but Kaede was all for these little touches, or the ocean waves painted across the walls by an enterprising and properly-equipped Angie.

_We are what we pretend to be._

_If we act like things are returning to normal, then eventually, they will._

Kaede couldn’t help shedding tears as she ate in the packed, huge cafeteria, not caring that everyone saw. After all, she wasn’t the only one so moved by the sheer incredible, indescribable taste.

She was crying over the taste of some impossible-to-pronounce French dish when, fittingly enough, Celeste sat down at the table across from Kaede unannounced.

“Good morning, Kaede.”

In her wake, Kazuichi stood nearby, holding a full tray of his own food awkwardly.

“Hey, Celeste, Kazuichi,” Kaede waved with the hand that wasn’t spearing more-pronounceable pancakes. “How are you guys doing?”

“Fantastic,” Kazuichi said, flatly.

“I am doing quite well, of course. Although I am not as moved as you are, I must admit, this is _magnifique_.” Celeste indulged in her own breakfast in dainty little bites, cutting it up and tasting small portions first, nibbling and keeping things classy. This clashed with Kaede, who acted more like a guy in this way, too. She was just suddenly aware of it more. Ah well. Trying to change who she was this late in the game was pointless.

Kaede was probably, once all the memory fuckery was taken into account, already in her mid twenties.

Thirty wouldn’t be too far away, huh.

_At least I won’t be the crazy piano cat lady, given romantic developments._

“I’m glad to see you kicked that disease,” Kaede smiled. “I mean, it’s been like wiped from all of us, but I feel like you’re a lot more… active lately.” Before all these incidents piled up into a catastrophe, Celeste liked to work behind the scenes. Her presence was felt indirectly. She never put herself forward, except through her glorious, and now defunct, Casino.

Kaede keenly felt the loss of that source for rare and strange gifts.

Not as much as Celeste herself, though. “I can no longer sit around and trust things to sort themselves out, sadly.” That might have been her way of confessing that she felt powerless and frustrated thanks to that stupid disease. Plus, the loss of her lab, of course. Something she put so much pride in, something everyone knew her for.

Kaede could certainly relate to Celeste’s feelings. The only solution was to get out there and do something… during a time where ‘sit and wait’ was the only plan.

“In a way, our current situation feels... comfortable,” Celeste said, as she gently sipped her dark tea.

“In what way?” Kaede asked. “In that we’re not currently dying…?”

“Usami has promised that there will be answers.” Celeste peered into her tea as she slowly, steadily drained the cup. “Presuming for a moment that she does not disappoint, then we’ll know the truth. There’s only one truth, though. Now, which parts are true, and which are lies, is up in the air. We can believe whatever we wish. Infinite possibilities stretch out before us. We will soon have that luxury taken from us.”

_Believing a lie is a luxury we have? Like, we’ll miss it when we only have the truth?_

Kaede had heard some pessimistic stuff before, like what Keiko had said during that video. However, this might have took the cake. It really made Kaede remember that Celeste regularly hung out with Kokichi, and the two considered themselves as close to friends as it was possible to get.

“In some ways,” Kazuichi grumbled, “Lies have become the truth. Even if we find out they’re wrong in the end, we still acted like it was real. So in that case, what really is the difference?”

“An unusually apt observation, Kazuichi,” Celeste praised and insulted in the same breath, an art form she liked to cultivate. “It is like living your whole life believing fervently in, say, a fringe religion. Just for instance.”

Kaede couldn’t help but glance over to where the Black Hats were congregating.

The group grew every time Kaede looked away. In fact, she knew for a fact not everyone there were members yet. But lot of people had taken another look at Angie’s whole religion deal. They were giving it a shot.

The deal got sweeter for them as they lost other things to believe in.

“They don’t find this situation comfy,” Kazuichi said. “Those guys just want some answers, they just want things to make sense. They’ve got an emptiness in them, and they'll fill it up any way they can. It doesn’t matter how.”

“You sound pretty sure about what other people are feeling,” Kaede said.

“It’s just like my old man. Except the thing that mean old bastard picked to fill him up was booze. But it’s just the same. And, on the other hand... I feel the same way.” Kazuichi sighed. “I guess they say that kinda personality runs in the family, right? Gonna go to the evening prayer. I keep telling myself it’s just for the pretty girls. But I’m not like you, Celeste. I can’t just lie to myself and believe it.”

Celeste waved her white-gloved hand. “Do not worry, Kazuichi. I have practiced all my life to get where I am. I’m certain that with enough practice, you too will gain… some of the same ability. A certain amount, perhaps.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You are quite welcome.”

Kaede smirked. “She’s really got you whipped, huh? Along with ‘Miss Sonia’, and Gundham now...”

“Not even!” Kazuichi said. “Nobody tells me what to do!”

Kaede patted the seat next to her. “Then, come and sit down at the table.”

“... I don’t feel like it. I’m fine standing up.”

_Sure, buddy._

Celeste had to be doing something right, if guys obeyed whatever her whims were. Maybe it was some kind of inverse of the power that kept making hot girls listen to Angie and take her seriously.

_If I learned both of those powers, then I would become the most powerful pianist on the planet._

“Do not admire me too much for my control,” Celeste clarified. “Kazuichi has merely lost a bet, and is thus under my control in various ways.” She coughed delicately into her white lace glove and frilly sleeve. “Ahem. By any estimate, roughly half the group has been carried away in spiritual fervor. So far. It has passed the point where it will become a major incident. Just do remember that not everyone feels the same way,” Celeste shook a finger. “Some of our group can still be rational, and they are all ready to support you.”

I don’t like that I can’t just tell them off for this kind of stuff, I might need that support.

If we divide ourselves up into red ants and black ants, we’ll be in real trouble.

“That’s good to hear! Guess I may as well get it straight from the jumpsuited horse’s mouth, then.” Kaede tilted her head. “How is this ‘virtual world’ stuff gonna work, Kaz? Now that you’ve had a chance to check out the Labs and stuff?”

Kazuichi sighed.

_Hey, you still owe me this much at least from Operation Babe Hunt._

“I won’t bother you with the technical details. We'll have all five senses in the digital world, which is set up to emulate reality in a lotta ways. If you went to sleep then were put under Full Dive, there's no guarantee you'd even notice the difference when you woke up. Basically, Usami handled a lot of the work for us, and set up a system we’re sort of tweaking for our own needs. Even though she set it up, it’s supposed to be a space where Monokuma or Usami can’t interfere directly. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He really did look awkward, trying to eat with one hand while the other held the tray up. It spoke to his coordination that he was even able to actually do that. Eating standing up would be enough to put Kaede off.

“The long and the short of it is that we’re preparing VR gear for everyone. A headset that will handle inputs and outputs from your brain. Everyone will get a headset and a comfortable place to sit, and we’ll all go in together. Like I said, Full Dive, so your real body will sit in a trance-like state, just kinda doing what bodies do while your mind escapes.”

Kaede nodded. “So it really is like an anime or something. … Hey, when you say ‘all’, you just mean everyone who’s healthy and sane, right..?”

Kazuichi sweated visibly.

“Uh, about that….”

Somehow, learning that detail was the most absurd part of the whole experience.

Walking around and exploring a digital world alongside criminals and maniacs?

“Usami’s the one who requires everyone to go, at least at first. So she’s gonna handle getting the prisoners all wired up, supposedly,” Kazuichi said. “I sure as hell aren’t going into any of those cells. Maybe Tsumugi. Or maybe not. Now that she’s seen what everyone’s really like, she’s probably out for herself now. Or her ‘beloved’ Junko.”

“I suppose we should keep this pertinent fact to ourselves,” Celeste remarked. ‘To avoid… undue concern. Assuming this game world works as advertised, then even dangerous people should be physically incapable of threat.”

Kaede agreed that everyone couldn't hear about this until the project was closer to completion. “Those psychos can be threats, even if it’s a world without the concept of violence. I mean, some of them are dangerous not because of what they can do, but because of what they can make others do.”

“Ah, Nagito.” Celeste sighed dramatically. “I expelled him from my Casino, but I must admit. I wish we could play games again. Ah well. Perhaps in the virtual world, I can challenge his luck and finally overcome it.”

“How would ‘luck’ even work in a video game?” Kaede grinned.

 _“Total bullshit,”_ Kazuichi said, grinning through mouthfuls of breakfast. _“So, you know. Just like real life.”_

* * *

Shuichi and Kaito’s room was a hotspot of activity, with frequent visits.

It was nice to know that they weren’t being stuck in a room and forgotten.

It could also get very exhausting to entertain non-Kaede, non-Maki guests.

When Leon knocked on the door and let himself in, Shuichi’s immediate reaction was annoyance. He stomped that down quickly, though. His next feeling was shame to react to a concerned friend like that. Even if it was somebody like Leon. Who always expressed himself in… unique ways.

“Sake?”

Shuichi looked at the green glass bottle that had just been put on the tray beside his bed. It was indeed full to the brim, and it looked like something that could be found at the old supermarket.

“Where did you even get this, Leon?”

“Always pays to have a stash,” The Ultimate Baseball Star explained as he crashed on the nearest soft thing that wasn’t full of a patient. “Thought the three of us could share it or something.”

Shuichi looked down at himself, still clad in nothing but a hospital gown and blanket. As pale and thin as ever, and looking like he suited the ‘sickly boy’ stereotype to a T. Alongside the massive bandaging wrapped around his hidden legs, and the arms laid over the blanket. Which still weren’t moving very well at all, when Shuichi wasn’t soaring on painkillers. Then, he looked up to the IV bags still attached to him, and the half-eaten hospital food on that tray.

The Ultimate Detective was at a loss for the right way to phrase his response, so he took a moment to consider.

“That’s very... thoughtful.”

Leon rubbed the back of his head, grinning wildly. “Thanks, man! I just figured if there was ever a time when a man needs a drink, it’s right about now.”

Kaito would have been all over that offer in one heartbeat, if circumstances were different. As it was, he shared a look with Shuichi. Kaito was looking pale recently, too. Not just pale, but he had a pallor about him, an air of, well. Of fatigue, of being tired, not having quite as much energy as he’d always shown in the past.

_I won’t deny that a drink might sound nice, but in the current situation…_

“What’s wrong, guys? Come on, I’ll pour out glasses for both of you, but you should probably sit up.”

_I’m not even sure if I can, or if that’s a good idea yet._

“... Oh, I get it.”

_Finally-_

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Head Nurse Angie,” Leon assured them, still grinning like a madman. “So if you’re worried about invoking her wrath, then no worries. Let’s get sloshed! Come on, what’s better than this? Guys being dudes!”

Kaito glared at him. “It’s like you’re tempting a man in the desert with water. Damnit. I’d love to get a drink, but…”

“It’s not about Angie getting mad,” Shuichi explained. “I mean, clearly, that’s never been an issue for me. Heh.” He looked aside with a sigh. “Neither Kaito nor myself are in great shape right now, Leon. I’m not sure exactly what would happen if you mixed alcohol with some of the chemicals we’re being pumped full of. I strongly suspect one of us would catch on fire.”

“There’s an image.” Leon laughed. “But seriously guys, c’mon! Is that it? You both sound like old ladies right now! Isn’t the whole point of college life to, as Hiro said, ‘cheerfully surrender to every passing temptation’? Especially on this island, we’ve gotta bring back the party spirit! If it doesn’t start here, where will it start?”

Kaito sighed. “Anywhere that doesn’t have bedridden hospital patients.”

Leon looked between the two bedridden patients. He looked hurt, as if Kaito had just called him one of the many slurs that frat boys loved to bandy around. Rather than for pointing out, uh. Basic common sense. Sense so common, so basic, that Shuichi would have had difficulty articulating it in words.

Saying it directly was a little like reminding Leon to breathe.

“Aw, you guys found out my little joke! Haha, just kidding! Of course it would be fuckin’ stupid to start drinking in your hospital beds.” Leon laughed, a laugh loud and fake, helping to reinforce the very obvious lie.

Shuichi didn’t need some fancy title like ‘an Ultimate Detective’ to sniff this one out.

Even Kaito got it.

“Okay, so if it was just some joke. Why did you come visit, for real?”

“... I don’t know, okay,” Leon admitted, glaring angrily. Like blame for any of this situation could be laid at either Shuichi or Kaito. Leon was, among his various other qualities, not very introspective. “I know it was dumb, but I thought, shit. Things have been so serious and depressing around here. I mean, hospital, right. But everything on the island is like that. Anywhere you go, grey skies, rain, cold winds, and bomb craters. Like, wow. If I was paying money for this sorry-ass excuse for a vacation, I’d want it back.”

Kaito groaned. “What did you think things were gonna be like, dude? We just got through the wringer. Fuck’s sake, Shuichi nearly bought it!”

“Along with many others,” Shuichi said.

“And the moron is so into being ‘humble’ or whatever, that when people point out _he nearly fucking died_ , he plays it off! Like ‘Oh, no, it was no big deal. _It was only an evil serial killer’!_ ”

Leon leaned back on his chair, and looked at the ceiling. “Dude. I know, alright? Shit, man. How the hell did we not see this coming? I mean, like. Touko was never good friends with anyone, but come on. We talked with her every day.”

It was cold comfort to Shuichi that the incident would have probably unfolded either way, regardless of his supposed ‘betrayal’. Thanks to Monokuma and Nagito working so hard to bring it about, for their sick purposes.

_They talk about despair and hope, respectively, which should make them the most bitter of enemies. They should have absolutely nothing in common._

_In_ _fighting for those intangible goals at the expense of everything else like human lives, they wrap back around to sharing very similar methodology._

_It's a sadly common product of extremism._

“There’s no right answer,” Shuichi said. “There’s no way to tell you how to feel, or give you easy answers about how we missed it. If we had our memories back, we might have seen this coming. Or not. I doubt that the Academy would have sent Touko, Kiyo, or Nagito along for the ride to Gopher Island if they knew their true violent natures. Much less the Ultimate Despair.”

“That’s true,” Kaito nodded. “It’s possible even Usami didn’t know. Or she thought it wouldn’t happen, shit. That could even be why she messed with our memories. You know me. I wanna believe in everyone. Shit, I’d rather die than stop believing! But that doesn’t mean I can ignore what’s right in front of my face. Like you, stabbed to shit.”

That was more of a downer conversation than Leon might have intended.

However, the baseball star leaned forward. “Hey, that’s a good point, Shuichi. Why were Junko, Mukuro, and Izuru here with us? I mean, there’s no way HPA just didn’t know about them. Right?”

“According to the memories we saw,” Shuichi said, “The masterminds behind Ultimate Despair and the Ultimate Hunt weren’t widely known. That was part of why Chiaki had to die. If what we saw was real. I feel like I need to say that every single time we bring up all these weird vision trips.”

“It’s trouble either way,” Kaito said. “If that shit wasn’t real, then why would we be shown it? And why would Usami say it was? And it was, then, uh. That brings the more obvious question to light.”

_How is Chiaki still here if she died?_

Leon shrugged. “Shit, man. At this point, maybe it’s ghosts.”

Shuichi winced. “Please, don’t bring up-”

 _ **"Shut up!**_ T-There’s no way it’s ghosts, moron!” Kaito was back to shouting. Fear put some energy in him, and he shivered and broke out in a sweat. Not from the fevers raging through his body this time. But just because somebody had dared to bring up, well, the paranormal.

Kaito really didn’t handle himself well when ghosts were ‘involved’.

Leon looked positively defeated. “Okay, okay. I was just kidding. Wow. This whole ‘visit’ thing didn’t turn out like I’d planned, huh. Maybe I should just, like, go. I couldn’t help Ibuki much, she just kept saying everything was ‘fine’. I couldn’t help here, either.”

Shuichi shook his head, smiling. “Not at all. I think it was nice of you to come up and bring a gift. Even if we can’t enjoy it now, hey. That doesn’t mean it’ll always be like that, right?”

Kaito let out a sigh, trying to force himself back out of panic mode. “T-That’s right. Absolutely right, Shuichi! Hey, Leon! Don’t drink this shit. Keep this bottle wherever your stash is, until both me and my sidekick here are out of the hospital. We’ll crack it open and get fucking plastered to celebrate.”

Leon grinned, and as usual, enthusiasm from him made the redheaded athlete look like a wild animal. “You got it. That means you guys absolutely have to pull through and heal quick, though. I’m running out of other stuff, and I’ll be pissed if I can’t get, well, pissed.”

“What an incentive,” Shuichi said. “Fine. it’s… what would Mondo call it? ‘A promise between men’. We’ll share this bottle when better days come back.”

That sort of thing really wasn’t Shuichi’s speed, but Leon and Kaito loved that line so much, it was totally worth it. When Shuichi got his strength back, and Kaito kicked this dumb virus in the teeth, they’d all celebrate together.

_We’re like oil and water._

_I’m not sure exactly how we became friends, Leon._

_No, I am. It’s because however much you might, uh. Get it wrong sometimes. Or go off half-cocked. Or lose your temper. Or make a bad call…_

_For all that, you came up to me when I needed it, and offered a hand._

_You’re not the only person who has helped support me. I owe so many people so much. Including more than one of my fellow patients. That’s why I’ve got to get better, and pay that kindness back. To do whatever I can, with this talent I’ve happened to end up with, and help everyone make it through what’s to come._

_There are things that only Kyouko can do, and there’s things that only I’ll be able to do._

_When the time comes, and we have to investigate that virtual world, I’ll be rested and ready._

* * *

 

Going to an amusement park with Hiyoko and Mahiru was terrifying.

Makoto felt less threatened with a knife in his face.

He’d been prepared to hide behind Rantaro for protection, but that wasn’t needed. Mahiru was muted, but she at least mustered a few ‘aren’t you a boy’s at various points. Hiyoko especially was quiet. Too quiet.

Or maybe it was expected that she’d be acting differently. In the wake of those incidents. Even days on, neither she, or her redheaded ‘big sis’, were the same.

While Rantaro was too casual for all that.

“I just have the benefit of experience,” He explained, rubbing the back of his ruffled green hair. They passed the entrance gates to Nezumi Park together, followed by the girls a second later. “Getting mixed up in stuff like that just doesn’t bother me like it probably should. It was scary.”

Makoto envied that ability, or disability, or whatever Rantaro called it. To have a dulled, matter-of-fact reaction. The casual attitude towards danger. It had served him well in the ancient ruin, and let the amnesiac make snap decisions.

When it came down to the wire, Makoto had just panicked and then got lucky.

“Even so, thanks for letting me come along, guys,” Makoto said.

“Not like we own the park,” Mahiru said. “In fact, we’re bound to run into a few others around here. It’s either this, or the Labs.”

Or, Mahiru didn’t quite come out and say, five islands of ruins and wreckage.

“Himiko told me that she’s gonna hang out with Tenko,” Hiyoko said. “I know we’re all thinking it, so I’ll just go ahead and say that I have no clue why. But hey. Oh, and of course, that swimming maniac is bound to be here with Ogre.”

_Oh, Hiyoko. Never change._

_Hang on, change immediately._

As it turned out, going through a near-death experience didn’t always result in immediate personal growth. Much as fiction and visual novels had taught Makoto otherwise. Sometimes, what didn’t kill you, just slowed you down, made you weaker, and gave you scars, and left you less able to deal with the next attack.

Hiyoko was still trying, though. In her own small, petty way.

Everyone moved at their own pace.

Usami manned more of the amusement parks’ stands, tents, and attractions now. It was a weird show of good faith that she was working with everyone now, but it did mean that Makoto could indulge in one of the little touches of life he’d missed.

Cotton candy.

Ignorant of what a certain unmasked Imposter would say about his choice of snack, Makoto went hard at his fluffy cloud while they walked along the park, exploring as a group. Makoto and the girls were both happy to let Rantaro fill empty spaces in conversation. In turn, he was just as happy to talk about the memories he’d retained before coming to Hope’s Peak.

While it was true that there was no such thing as an ‘average person’, and even Makoto had an interesting thing or two about him, he sure felt like a blank slate compared to this guy.

“One of my clearest memories of Chile has to be when we got back to port, and I saw along the waterline that people had set up stands to sell stuff. Separate tourists from their money, that’s all pretty standard. Show off local snacks and entertainment, give people a slice of the culture, sure. No, one person had a table that was absolutely full of, I shit you not, Sayaka Maizono merchandise. Chile.”

Makoto stared up at him. “Please, tell me you’ve told Sayaka that one before.”

“I did, but she seemed to think I was making it up for some strange reason.”

“It would be more insane to think you were being serious,” Mahiru said. “So you probably think I’m gonna call you out. But that’s how I know that story is real. If you were faking, you’d think up something a little more believable than that.”

_Truth is stranger than fiction, at least on this island._

Rantaro shrugged. “Love you too.”

Mahiru turned beet-red. “There you go again, doing… that.”

Hiyoko reached into her throat and gagged.

Considering all the insanity that had gone on recently, Makoto hadn’t got the chance to just mess around with friends much. The future was bound to be fraught with more tension, revelation, and challenges. Makoto had no clue what they were going to find when they dived into the digital world, or how things would change for them out here in reality.

That just made it all the more critical to cherish these times.

These fleeting moments where they were together, where friends could just unwind and mess around and hang out.

Apparently, Himiko and Tenko agreed. Makoto saw them rocket past on the roller coaster, twisting and turning and screaming their lungs out. That looked a lot better in Makoto's opinion then seeing them tense around each other. Mikan was nowhere to be seen, but that was, uh, probably for the best too. When it didn't involve blood and guts, Mikan's tolerance for excitement was about as strong as, well, Makoto's own. He could relate.

Rantaro's group passed on the roller coaster. Mahiru and Makoto were both solid ‘no’s, Hiyoko called them wimps and voted ‘yes’, and Rantaro himself, the glorious leader, didn’t care enough to push the issue.

“My life’s been way too exciting lately, thanks,” Mahiru said.

Somehow, though, that brought the conversation to a place Makoto was hoping to avoid. Yet, he knew it would come out. It was the purple-haired elephant in the room.

“You know, Makoto, your girlfriend’s a scary person to face down,” Rantaro said. “All three of us were treated like suspects down at the precinct in a cop show. At least for a time. Kyouko’s ‘request’ that we give her info was followed by the not so subtle implication of what refusing would mean.”

“It would mean becoming her enemy,” Hiyoko glared. “Right after she’d just got done locking all her enemies away.’

Makoto put up his hands. “To be fair, things were nuts. In fact, my use of the past tense on that is more hopeful than realistic. I just hope things are at the stage were nothing else is gonna happen until we get to the virtual world.”

“I understand,” Mahiru said. “Guys, don’t give him a hard time. First off, even if he wanted to do something about it, well. Who exactly wears the pants in that relationship?”

It wasn’t like that at all! Kyouko was just a tough, but fair, person.

Sometimes the tough part just came out a little strongly.

Mahiru sighed. “I want to get off this topic so we can get back to enjoying the park, but I’ll just say one more thing. I chose to work willingly with Junko, Tsumugi, and Mukuro as part of their plan, before I knew… all that stuff. I went to them for help rather than going alone, and that’s why I’m still here. Tsumugi helped save my life. They all did, but her especially, like. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Hell, she probably didn’t know anymore than I did. I told Kyouko that if she was gonna put Tsumugi away, she had to do it to me too.”

Makoto shook his head. “There’s no way she would do that!”

“If she thought I was working with Ultimate Despair or had any clue what was really going on?” Mahiru shook her head. “No, she’d put me away. Everyone can whine and complain all they like, but fact is, that’s why she deserves that job. If somebody turns out to be good, she’ll eventually catch on and turn them loose. But if somebody betrays the group, then it won’t matter who we thought they were. She’ll go after them.”

“I can respect that,” Rantaro nodded. “Even if it turned out I was controlling Monokuma, Kyouko wouldn’t hesitate. In fact, she’d probably enjoy that, given I seem to rub her the wrong way.”

“Maybe morons who enjoy being all Mysterious don’t mesh well together,” Hiyoko mused.

Most people, Makoto definitely included, would be held back by sentiment. At the very least, they would balk at sentencing a friend to rot in jail.

“Rantaro, how would you feel if Fuyuhiko and Peko got what they wanted?” Makoto asked. “Would you feel, uh, reasonable if Mahiru had actually gone to the hospital? Or worse? How about you, Hiyoko?"

Rantaro didn’t reply, but Hiyoko was upfront about her feelings.

“I’d peel the skin from their fucking faces. Starting with Fuyuhiko, so Peko could watch.”

_Please be kidding._

“That’s the last thing I’d want,” Mahiru said, looking aside. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

“I’ve learned a ton,” Hiyoko pouted. “Pretty much due to you two morons. So it’s obvious that if anybody messed with either of you, especially you…” She shook her head. “I know you don’t wanna hear it. I wouldn't act on it. But that’s how I’d feel.”

“Can’t say I’d be thrilled either,” Rantaro said. “I don’t want to pull the ‘overprotective boyfriend’ card, but my blood was boiling throughout that big crisis.”

“You sure didn’t act like it,” Mahiru said.

“Acting like a fool wouldn’t have done either of us any good.”

"Really? Because you sure do it a lot anyhow."

_There we go, that's some lecturing. That's more like it._

Hanging out with Rantaro had a fundamentally peaceful quality to it. The way he took life at his own pace and didn’t let the little things get past his skin was something Makoto could learn from. He was in his element with high-tension girls like Mahiru and Hiyoko; they meshed not because Rantaro didn’t challenge them, but because he didn’t butt heads directly with their strong personalities.

Whereas with somebody like Makoto who was maybe a little more passive than the average guy, but not an omega-male, okay, Rantaro led the conversation around, darting from subject to subject. Like taking the lead in a little dance between them, a tit-for-tat.

People suspected that Rantaro would never run out of stories about his travels around the world.

“Considering all that, I think I know what your talent is already,” Makoto opined, joking around. “Or at least I can take a guess.”

“Yeah, same here. I think I’ve figured it out.”

Huh?

Makoto did a double-take. “Seriously? Did you like, recover some hidden memories?”

Rantaro shook his head. “Nope. It’s just like Kyouko, I guess. Eventually I just thought it out, and well. We’ll know for sure when we get that last set of Ultimate Labs. But I’m probably the Ultimate Adventurer. Or something.”

Whoa.

Even his dramatic reveals were low-key. That, or he’d known for a while, but was just keeping it to himself.

_Maybe that’s why I like spending time around you. You remind me of both of them._

* * *

This wasn't going to be any fun, so they should at least go and get it over with quick.

Kaede wanted nothing more than to get out of the Hospital for a while, but people wouldn’t stop getting hurt.

This one was a special case, though. Something that required her attention.

Touko tried to kill herself again.

Nothing sharp was ever let within arm’s reach of Genocider Syo, of course. She was in a padded cell. Her bed was on the floor, Japanese-style. No pillows or blankets. Every measure had been taken for safety’s sake, including giving her plastic cutlery for meals.

Which at least meant that Touko had to use a bit of plastic to saw into a vein.

That took so long, and Touko was unable to hide her screams of pain. Tenko managed to get in there and put a stop to it in time.

Now both psychopathic serial killers were in hospital beds. Rather than the Brig where they belonged.

Maki had absolutely insisted on going into the room with Kaede, just in case. While the Ultimate Assassin never exactly looked relaxed, she was on high alert, her eyes glowing with fury focused squarely on the sole occupant of this Heavy Containment room.

“J-J-Just let me die,” Touko begged, looking away and refusing to meet Kaede’s own furious gaze. “Please.”

“No,” Kaede said.

“Why not?”

Kaede opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“Kill me, or stick me back in my cell, Akamatsu. But don’t make me listen to the friendship crap.”

“Oh, believe me,” Kaede assured her, laughing, “We’re not friends anymore. We never were. I try to be a forgiving person, Fukawa. I try to see the good side of people. Even terrible people. But what you’ve done…” There simply weren’t words. Even saying something like ‘I’ll never forgive you’ didn’t quite get across the meaning. “Then again, I guess killing people is pretty common in our group. This goes beyond just the morality of it. I suppose I just hate you more for selfish reasons. Like what happened to Shuichi.”

“... I’m sorry…”

Kaede’s heart thundered, and her mind raced. Her fists clenched and unclenched, and her breathing narrowed. Her field of vision narrowed, too. To just the bed, just to Touko Fukawa. Just the bitch who’d almost killed him.

Kaede reached out, and considered grabbing Touko by her scrawny neck.

Even an untrained amateur could do it, especially when the target didn’t resist.

It would have been all too easy. What was why, even in her darkest hour, gripped by a vortex of grief and rage, barely able to breathe, her vision blurring from anger, Kaede Akamatsu held back. Or rather, she was lucky enough to have somebody who could hold her back. Maki was there, at her side. Not with words, just a look.

Maki wasn’t just there to guard Kaede.

_Death’s too good for you anyway, Fukawa._

_That’s why I don’t want any of you executed. Tsumugi, Fuyuhiko, and Peko don’t deserve it. And it’s way too quick and easy for what the others, like you, deserve. I don’t hate them quite the same way as I’ll hate you, but the fact is the group would be better off… well. It’s clear how we’d be better off._

“Don’t you **dare** apologize to me. I'm not the one you fucked over.”

Kaede glanced over. Maki would doubtless know the best way to do it, or even to make it look like suicide or an accident. It was surprising that she hadn’t already offered to do it.

“Or to anyone else. There’s only one person you’re allowed to apologize to.”

Touko had offered no resistance, she hadn’t even reached up to grab Kaede’s hands or arms. Her eyes narrowed and widened simultaneously, the pupils contracting as she finally looked up at Kaede. She was choking on nothing but her own regrets. “S-S-Shuichi…”

“If he wants to see you,” Kaede said, “Then you can tell him you’re sorry in person. But you can’t do that if you’re dead, moron.”

Touko went limp, letting out a sigh in her bed. “T-That’s true... I guess I’ve got that to live for, at least. I won’t be able to rest in peace until I tell Shuichi how sorry I am. It w-won’t change anything, but I have to say it… Nngh... Still doesn’t answer why _you_ care.”

“Funny thing about that. I don’t have to explain myself to a monster like you,” Kaede said.

Touko scoffed. “I was talking to your pet dog.”

Maki met Kaede’s surprised look of betrayal as the Assassin stepped between Kaede and Touko, before something that couldn’t be taken back happened.

“Step back, Kaede. You’re too close to what happened.”

“What, suddenly you understand how people work? Suddenly you’re the expert on emotions, Maki?”

“... Do you wanna die?”

Kaede wasn’t just struck by immediate regret. She’d had a sickening realization as she spoke that she wasn’t the one talking anymore. Not totally. Some of Keiko was slipping in there before she’d even realized it. That was what really turned Kaede’s stomach.

“... Sorry. Right. Uh, sorry to you too, Fukawa. I got a little hot there.”

Good old fashioned regret broke through the rage coiling around Kaede’s heart. It was chilling to realize just what one was capable of, given the right situation. To feel, in some small, cold part of Kaede deep down, that she hadn't saved Fukawa’s skin because her life had value, and nobody deserved to die. Kaede believed those things, she’d say them to others, but there was more to the story.

Kaede could give reasons why sometimes, rules had to be broken. Morals, ethics, laws, they were important to keep things together. But they weren’t perfect. Sometimes, it was better for everyone if…

This visit was bringing out a side of Kaede she really didn’t like.

_I told myself I would never become like her. I don’t remember her ever joining something like ‘the Ultimate Hunt’, but… Wait._

Memories!

Memory was the reason Kaede had come to see the prisoner in person.

Despite it being a patently bad, stupid, idea.

“Are you planning on blaming your ‘split personality’?” Kaede asked coldly. “Explaining to Shuichi that y-y-you didn’t really m-m-mean to stab him through both legs and arms?”

“I chose to let Her out,” Touko confessed, grimly. “After trying to keep Her inside for so long, it all felt so pointless. It felt like there was no reason to hold back. Like everyone was going to know anyhow, so… Why not. Why not at least ‘get back’ at the guy who told you all about me. So no, I’m the one to blame.”

“How does Genocider Syo _work?”_ Maki asked. “That’s what we wanted to know.”

Touko hesitated. “I don’t like to think about Her, but I guess that’s unavoidable now. I don’t know exactly how the whole thing works. Like, what caused her to be… born from me. From the worst parts of me. Or why I can’t get rid of her. Or why I faint when I see blood, and she takes over. I know that She takes over, but if you wanna know how, ask a damn psychologist.”

Kaede took a deep breath. “Do you share memories with Genocider Syo?”

“Share... Memories?”

“Or do you just ‘fall asleep’ and then wake back up after what happens?” Kaede pressed. “Come on, this is important. So hurry up and answer.”

Touko rubbed her head. “I… No. That one, I can be sure about. I don’t remember what happens when She takes over. Probably holds true both ways. Which means I don’t remember exactly what happened down there in that dungeon, either, although-”

“Don’t. We’re not talking about that. I need an answer more helpful then ‘probably’,” Kaede interrupted. “Screw it. What I really need is to talk to her firsthand.”

“T-To h-her?!”

“... Kaede, what are you doing?”

Maki and Touko both thought that wasn’t a very good idea, although they had very different reasons for objecting. Neither one wanted to let that happen. Objectively, thinking with her human brain, Kaede could see a million ways for that to go oh so wrong.

Kaede wasn’t in the mood to stop.

While she was capable of hateful wrath, of furious intensity, anger, bitterness, and taking action from that, Kaede was, more than anything, just really stupidly determined. She never gave up in the face of obstacles. That was before her boyfriend landed in the hospital thanks to this lunatic.

Kaede wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise.

“This is too important to leave unresolved,” She said. “Once we’re done with Genocider, you’ll probably come right back. It won’t hurt.”

“We’re girls,” Maki said, “So she shouldn’t want to kill us naturally. Not to mention survival instinct. If she attacks us, she's dead. Even so, I can’t promise that I can stop her _in time_ , Kaede. Not without a weapon.”

_The Ultimate Assassin can’t stop somebody?_

_Well, probably not 'in time' to save, say,_ my _dumb ass, if I’m standing in the same room._

“Nothing’s certain, especially not for us anymore. Maki, I believe in you.” Kaede shook her head. “Touko, look away. Then look back when I tell you. If you’re really sorry. If there’s even a tiny part of you that’s capable of that. That’s capable of feeling regret over your actions. Then you’ll do what I tell you. Now look away.”

It looked like Touko’s room had the blood packs removed. Kaede knew they were just obscured by leather covers. All Kaede had to do to get some sickening pink was open one of the bags, tell Touko to look back around…

Bam.

Out like a light.

Kaede didn’t wait long for the sleeping writer to… transform. There really wasn’t any better word for the process Touko underwent. It was easy to believe her story about ‘another self’ when Genocider’s existence was so separate and dramatic.

_In fact, that’s what I’m counting on._

Watching Touko jerk up, sitting upright like a puppet, with her extremely long, dangerous-looking tongue hanging limp from her mouth, was normally ominous.

Kaede wasn’t going to let the freakshow slow her down today, though.

_She doesn’t want to die. Unlike Touko, that ‘other side’ of her. If that’s really how it is, then it’ll be fine._

_“What what what what?_ What’s going on, why am I not in, like, Superjail…?” Touko, no, Genocider, looked around in amazement. Before her eyes finally settled on Kaede and Maki, who were staring tensely back. “Whoa. Aw, man. Just some uggos, no boys in sight! So, what’s crackin’, Jack? Looking to come over to the girls’ side in various ways?~”

“Genocider, Touko, whatever you are.” Kaede squared her shoulders. “I’m not going to play stupid games. I brought you here. I need answers, and it’s possible you’re the only one on the island who can help us. Since you’re crazy.”

Genocider tilted her head at an unnatural angle.

Kaede got the disconcerting impression that Touko’s neck was, in fact, broken, even if she seemed fine. Everything about this psycho in her resting bitch state was like a life-sized puppet in some horror movie, as she stood on top of her own hospital bed rather than lying in it.

A grin split Touko Fukawa’s face all the way across, showing rows of teeth around that swinging tongue. Her eyes lit up with the innocent curiosity of a child, the purity that could only come from somebody very young, or who was otherwise uncomplicated by minor issues.

Like a conscience, or a soul.

“Shoot.”

* * *

_The visitation restrictions should be easing soon._

_If not from guilty conscience, then an incident may have already occurred. The effects of prolonged solitary confinement are well documented. The reason matters little, as long as we arrive at the place I’ve foreseen._

_Chiaki Nanami, our confrontation may prove difficult to manage._

_While you are drawn from her, psychology may not suffice. Predictions become infinitely more difficult, and may result in unexpected behavior patterns._

Izuru gained excitement from the prospect that he might not know something.

It was soon swallowed up in the sea of his certainty.

_Because you are **what was made from her** , predicting your responses should prove no more challenging. If anything, the nature of your existence will render you vulnerable to repetitive patterns and predictable set outcomes._

_Where there’s life, there’s threat and chaos._

_So for you, one devoid of life, can there only be hope?_

_Hope is what you have when all other things have failed you._

_I wonder if your efforts will succeed. To see that far ahead… I can model percentages. Yet, at least that, the final outcome, should remain in blissful doubt for now._

_My Ultimate Analytical Prowess will eventually resolve the infinite possibility of the future to the smallest number of feasible variables._

_Until that time, I can hold onto that uncertainty. I might even call that **my own hope.**_

Ordinary people found doubt and risk profoundly uncomfortable. They sought order and harmony at any cost. A place for everyone, and everyone in their place. Avoiding conflict in their personal lives, and conforming to the society around them, was their primary goal.

Society wouldn’t work unless most people went along with it, rather than trying to impose their will or change things for the better. Go with the flow, don’t rock the boat. Keep your head down and pray.

_Pitiful._

The person who’d finally arrived before the bars of his cell wasn’t like that at all. She had countless virtues, which Izuru could rattle off in his mind as simple statements of fact. Even Izuru had a talent as boring as a Moral Compass.

“Chiaki Nanami.”

Her appearance was unkempt, confirming Izuru’s suspicions. By now, she had likely been confronted with evidence that put her being into question. Some people would break and fold completely beneath such existential pressure. Chiaki was still fighting.

This was how she intended to fight.

The look on her face was as close to a hostile glare as she’d ever mustered up.

“Hajime, are you in there somewhere?”

Izuru suppressed the urge to sigh. “There is nobody called ‘Hajime’ here, or anywhere. That existence ended long ago, when I was created.”

“You said something like that to me, in my… memory. The memory that flashback light gave me,” Chiaki said, before glancing up at a camera. “Sorry, Kyouko. I had to bring it up.”

“What did you see in that flashback?” Izuru asked.

Chiaki explained her own death to Izuru.

Narrated in specific and particularly brutal detail.

_Ah._

“I don’t understand how it’s possible, but you know the answer. How could that be my memory? How do I remember my own death? Why did I see you in that memory? What was done to Hajime back at Hope’s Peak Academy?”

The girl was lost, and grasping for meaning.

Regardless, this particular turn of events threw a small wrench in Izuru’s predictions.

Even he couldn’t have expected Usami to miscalculate so badly. Provided that flashback vision had been accidental. It certainly matched with Usami’s goals and produced an outcome she would approve of.

“Everything that did not involve the cultivation of talent was excised,” Izuru explained. “It was part of my training, if you will. To create a genius out of an ordinary person, my teachers had no choice but to resort to radical procedures.”

“It’s just like that file we found,” Chiaki shook her head. “The Izuru Kamukura project. The terrible things they did to you, in the name of ‘hope’... I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe HPA was capable of such a terrible program. For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

_You’re sorry?_

_You’re sorry that_ you _couldn’t help_ me?

That was all too familiar, coming from Chiaki.

Izuru didn’t understand the emotional weight that Chiaki attached to those fragments of the past which had been discarded. He could predict and analyze it, and figure out the sentimental impulses that caused her to react that way, but he couldn’t sympathetically resonate in tune with her feelings or share them.

Hajime Hinata, a member of Hope’s Peak Academy in the Reserve Course, was of no value whatsoever. Not to friends or family, as he was. Not to his nation. Certainly not to the entire human race.

He had been given that value. He had been made something more. Something superior in every objective measurement.

The project had been a total success.

Yet Chiaki spoke of it like a tragedy, like a terrible mistake that should never have happened.

How profoundly illogical.

He reached into his pocket, and produced the Galaga hair clip.

He held it up in the dim light of the prison cell, and observed how it matched perfectly with the one in Chiaki’s hair. The pixelated design of a cheerful spaceship matching that seen in one of her favorite games.

Neither were Chiaki’s authentic hair clip, of course.

The real version of that item rested somewhere else.

However, the emotional impact was powerful. The Ultimate Gamer’s expression changed, breaking that caution, pity, and fear with sheer surprise.

“My hair clip…” Chiaki reached up to touch the one she was wearing, and then looked with wide purple eyes at Izuru’s copy. “How do you have an identical copy of my hair clip? That was a custom order...”

“This should serve as verification, of sorts. What you remembered, that vision of the flashback light…” Izuru shook his head. “It accords with the version of events from my own memories, which have been recovered with Monokuma’s help. What you perceived as my ‘transformation’ into Izuru was merely restoring my proper self, which had been long suppressed.”

“This is… too much to take in. What you’re saying makes no sense. If that’s the truth then how?! How was it that I died, but went on to be with this group, to walk around and talk?! What am I?”

Izuru shook his head.

“Please. If we’re still friends… Please tell me.”

“In the battle to come, I must remain impartial.”

“The battle… to come?”

“The struggle for the **future**.”

“Very helpful.” Chiaki groaned, rubbing her forehead. The bags under her eyes were most pronounced when she closed them. “You’re not going to tell me anything concrete, then? You know, but you won’t tell me? Or you’ll just speak in uselessly vague and dramatic statements until the big reveals?”

“Correct.”

“How cruel. Then, whatever was done to you, and however sorry I am for what happened…” Chiaki glared down at him. “You’re really not Hajime. You’re different. I don’t believe he’s completely gone. If you put those two things together, then it’s obvious what I’ve gotta do.”

“Oh?”

Chiaki clenched a fist and gripped the edge of her hoodie. She trembled, shaking like a leaf. “Something was done to you. There’s no way Hajime would show much such an uncool side to me. He would never become the kind of person who sat by and watched somebody in help, without helping them. He'd do his best in any situation. So I’m gonna do my best, and get him back.”

_Uncool? How childish._

_I am the reification of humanity’s hope. If you don’t like what you see, then you are rejecting hope itself._

“How?”

Chiaki glared defiantly. “Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do. If I can’t do it myself, then I can rely on the others to help me, too. Just like Hajime helped everyone. Like how he could rely on everyone. Everyone should be willing to help get him back. If I can’t do anything else with this messed-up life I have, then I will find a way to get Hajime back.”

Izuru was baffled.

Not that he was surprised, but the mere concept didn’t sit right with him. It felt like an incorrect answer in a form. No, the discomfort was deeper. Something deep rattled at the edge of Izuru’s consciousness. He didn’t grasp what was going on. He was groping at something deep and dark and profound, which were normally his strong suit. Except for this one. Chiaki’s feelings. He couldn’t fully categorize them, no matter how much analysis he applied.

His mind felt jumbled up, like a puzzle that had been put together wrong.

Izuru stared blankly, his face conveying none of the inner turmoil.

“Do you hope to turn back time itself and undo the past?”

“If it’s for the sake of Hajime, then I’ll do it! Hajime’s the one who can lead us to a shining future. I just know it. I can’t undo what was done, but I can change the future too. He inspired me to try. It's too sad to let you sit there and do nothing. So I'm gonna show you something you don't know. Something you can't predict.”

Chiaki’s voice had shown more signs of emotional instability, and this was the finale, complete with dramatically pointing at him to get the idea across through the bars.

“I couldn’t tell him this while he was around. So I’ll say it now. I love Hajime Hinata, and I believe in him. I believe he’ll come back, and I’m going to make it happen. I’m going to save you both!”

Izuru considered this bold declaration.

“Good luck.”


	43. 3-6. To The New World! (Tsumugi)

Tsumugi Shirogane, the Ultimate Cosplayer, was having a nice morning, all things considered.

What sort of things did this quirky, cute blue-haired girl have to _consider?_

Well, there had been some certain trouble recently. A minor misunderstanding between cherished friends and fellow Ultimates.

The kind of trouble that forced Tsumugi against her will into a cold, barren steel prison cell like a dangerous criminal. The Brig swallowed light, heat, and hope, and allowed none through to the shivering cosplayer. There were people who could adjust to prison lifestyle. For somebody raised in normal society, being stuck in there, cut off from contact with others, and put under constant surveillance was its own special kind of hell worse than death.

Tsumugi was having just the smallest issue with this arrangement. Past how it alternated between long stretches of endless, interminable boredom, punctuated by moments of sheer terror. Past even how the only subject she had to show off her cosplays to was a lifeless security camera that never offered proper feedback.

No matter how many characters she became for sheer, mind-crushing, insanity-inducing, despair-festering boredom.

It was minor problem, really. Something that the group had not seen fit to take into account. That early morning had been so stressful and dangerous, it was easy to see how this detail had been overlooked. Even if she would say it was important.

**Tsumugi had done nothing wrong.**

It let some of the air out of any attempt to cheer up when cold steel bars blocked her off from what freedom the ruined Gopher Island could offer.

She wasn’t bitter, though.

Junko wouldn’t want Tsumugi to be bitter at their friends. Just like she’d helped train Tsumugi out of calling herself ‘plain’. The real Junko was kinder than anyone knew. Beneath all the snark. The real Junko, that was. Not the cackling, cruel, insane thing that had replaced Junko and was wearing her skin.

Until Tsumugi had reason to believe otherwise, she had to blame that weird virus, or some other plot from Usami.

The rabbit was lying to them all even now.

It was the only rational explanation as to why Junko had threatened Tsumugi’s life that first day, at the start of the outbreak. Before all this insanity smashed them like a giant space flea crashing down and crushing everything they had.

Even given all that, though, Tsumugi had to be in a good mood.

She’d been carefully marking off the days, even if it seemed pointless. Just to have some frame of reference. It was one week after she’d been stuck in this cell, even if it actually felt like months or even years had gone by.

It was amazing how fast somebody’s perspective changed when they were stuck in a closed circle within a closed circle.

Today, something happened which would being an end to this tedium.

No, of course she wasn’t being released from prison, silly!

That would make way too much sense for this messed-up island.

Instead, they just brought all the insanity outside, into the Brig. For the first time since Kyouko’s second interview days back, Tsumugi had visitors. Three, in fact. Monokuma and Usami waddled to either side of a reluctant Kazuichi, who was dragging a big chair on wheels with all sorts of… stuff on it.

Tsumugi dressed up as fictional characters. She couldn’t have described it any better than _stuff._ Lots of digital stuff, machines, and mechanical bits. And tubes, gotta have tubes.

_“There’s no damn way I’m going into any of the other cells, even if you’re there!”_

Maybe the isolation really had broken Tsumugi’s mind in half. Even Kazuichi’s bitching was like music to her ears. She wanted to run up to the bars and greet him. He was the first human being that Tsumugi had seen in a week.

Even if the shark teeth made it a little doubtful, he still had better odds at having a soul than the Ultimate Detective.

“Don’t you believe I can protect you?” Usami sounded hurt.

“Oh, I think you _could_. With all that power you’ve got and your precious stick. I just don’t trust you as far as I can kick you! Which it turns out, is… pretty far.”

“I’d really appreciate it if students stopped punting me like an adorable, sugary-sweet football,” Usami remarked sadly, barely containing her tears. “It really hurts when you kick me into the stratosphere.”

_Did she at least remember to say she was ‘blasting off again’ when it happened?_

Probably not. Usami’s operator didn’t seem cultured. If it was an AI, same difference. Like everyone else, it didn’t understand half of Tsumugi’s epic references.

“If I was in charge of this operation, I sure as my black bean right eye wouldn’t be putting up with abuse,” Monokuma chimed in. “I’m talking capital punishment for violence against the headmaster! Fear of death is a wonderful tool for social order. The closest thing that chaotic, unpredictable humans have to a universal motivating force.”

That cheerful mickey-mouse tone, devoid of actual humanity but full of fake cheer. It wasn’t welcome, even then. Tsumugi tensed up just seeing the waddling little abomination. She wasn’t much of a fan of Usami after all the false charges, and in fact suspected the two were in league. Yet Monokuma was way easier to not just distrust, but hate.

“If I wanted your policy advice… oh wait, I never would, because you’re stupid, dumb, and mean!”

Whereas Usami was so cripplingly lame that even Tsumugi felt sympathetic cringe waves in her attempts to ‘argue’ with Monokuma. Who at least had some great lines, even if he was pure evil.

Kazuichi finally deigned to mercifully address Prisoner Eight directly.

“Oh, uh. Hey there, Tsumugi. You’re looking, you know. Alright.”

Tsumugi opened her arms wide in a mockery of a friendly gesture.

“Great to see you too, Kazuichi. Is it time for my Punishment?”

Monokuma perked up at the mention of punishment, for some reason. What a weird bear. Maybe he was into that. Could stuffed animals be into anything, at all? Tsumugi knew from extensive experience that if they’d had the internet, she could have found the answer to that in seconds. And had that answer burned into her brain for a lifetime.

Kazuichi couldn’t meet her wide blue eyes. “Uh, nothing like that. N-Not to worry.”

“Fantastic! I was hoping it wasn’t that, but in a place like this, run by things like those,” Tsumugi pointed to the stuffed animals, “It’s best to confirm stuff! You really can’t take anything for granted these days. Not even your human rights!”

“Hey, you got a toilet,” Monokuma giggled. “And Kyouko even turns off the camera when you use it. I checked, because I was curious. She’s not that perverted, thankfully.”

 _Why were_ you _checking that, though?_

Tsumugi looked up at the camera. Active as ever, swinging around mechanically. Always watching. Always scrutinizing her, always searching for any hint of weakness. For any clue to use back against Tsumugi in this absurd, rigged game.

She had tons of practice being in front of cameras. Aside from that incident with the crazy fan, never this kind of aggressive recording, of course. Normally, being recorded and filmed wasn’t Tsumugi’s goal, but she did at least feel empowered, proud. For a moment, she could forget how simple she was, and bathe in the limelight.

Even if she was better at helping other people to realize the fictional characters within them.

She was really good at that.

“So then, what’s all this?” Tsumugi’s tone of voice hadn’t changed so far. It wasn’t going to. It was the tonal equivalent of a frozen smile, which she also had.

Kazuichi struggled for the right words. “Well, you know. It’s kind of… how do I put this. This setup is all so that you can come with us, to the virtual world. So it’s kind of like that.”

Tsumugi stared. “The virtual world?”

_Digimon are… the champions?_

_I know that anything goes in this world, with those stuffed animals around. But come on. We’re going to spring that plot development on me out of literally nowhere?_

_I don’t even have time to decide I don’t believe it, because here’s all the stuff for it._

_Are those bags of fluid?_

Monokuma giggled, doing that stupid _upupupu_ thing. “Nobody ever bothered to tell you, huh? That’s odd, you should have been in the tier to get visitation rights. Not to mention the radio, to keep you from going even more insane.”

“Oh, Kyouko told me,” Tsumugi nodded. “That I was low-risk. Probably because I haven’t done anything wrong and won’t in future. It’s hard to get lower risk than ‘none’! So I could get visitors and stuff. How merciful. I’ve even been permitted to listen to the daily radio broadcasts, like all of Angie’s prayers. Every single one, day and night. But you know, even though I could have had visitors, nobody ever really… did that.”

“Oh, right. I guess that’s true,” Kazuichi mumbled, as he started to set up equipment throughout the cell, running a thick black power cable out into the hallway. Obviously, there were no electrical outlets in this isolation cell. “Sorry to hear that.”

“I don’t know why you’d be sorry,” Tsumugi replied, tone absolutely chipper. “I mean, it just means nobody cared enough, right? I understand. That’s the normal, expected response. Or maybe everyone was just worried I’d make them feel a little guilty for, you know. The false imprisonment thing.”

People were fine doing horrible things to each other, if they didn’t have to know about the specifics, or be reminded of it. If they could even be allowed to put it out of their own minds and forget it was happening, that was even better.

If the memories of their manifold sins could be somehow removed, that would be the ideal state of forgetfulness for human happiness.

Under those conditions, an infinite amount of wanton cruelty could be allowed.

Human beings were impressive like that.

“Damnit! I know, okay?! I know everything you’re gonna say.” Kazuichi busied himself setting up the chair and making sure everything was in place, including bringing out a headset visor thing.

Tsumugi had seen Sword Art Online a dozen times. She knew the score.

“You’re gonna go on and on about how you aren’t some criminal or terrorist. Or how people should be thanking you, because of what you did for Mahiru. How you saved her life. I know, okay? Everyone knows, especially everyone in Class Two. That’s the reason I’m here. To give you a message from everyone.”

“Ooh, a message?”

“Thanks. We won’t forget what you did. Not in the real world, or the virtual one.”

Damnit.

Heartfelt sincerity, Tsumugi’s one weakness.

She sighed, slumping into the chair in defeat. “If I can’t even win against you, Kazuichi, then I’m in real trouble. Okay, show me how this thing works. Uh, and can somebody tell me what’s actually going to, like, happen?”

“That’s why we’re here, actually!” Monokuma leapt up onto one of the chair’s armrests. Showing both surprising agility and how light he was, even with the bomb and whatnot in there. “To provide a helpful explanation of the **Neo World Program.** You might not expect this of me, but I wrote video game tutorials for a living before I turned to destroying the world.”

_Oh good. Everyone’s favorite part of gaming is the tutorials. Especially long-winded speeches instead of just showing organically._

“You’re terrible at both of those things, so I’m here to provide actual truth bombs. As the children say now, in the hip-hop urban centers.” Usami jumped up onto the other armrest, wavering for a moment in her balance. However, she had wings to correct. They kept her standing on those tiny, stubby little feet. “Ahem. Also, we won’t be able to follow you into that world. So this is our final chance for a while to really leave an impression.”

“A shame, too. I just got back into the story, and I’m already gonna be left behind again!”

Tsumugi was not a fan of the lack of personal space. This conversation was way too intimate. And immersion-breaking. Also, Kazuichi was attaching stuff to her, while mumbling out blushing apologies. That was a bit awkward, considering Tsumugi wasn’t exactly the most experienced with guys IRL.

She _was_ a seasoned veteran of many steamy roleplaying sessions and fanfics, though. Thank you very much. She’d at least been swept in Junko’s hurricane, too, and had plenty of experience of various kinds with girls now. With her sister, too. Sometimes together.

Maybe Tsumugi had no right to judge other people on the freak factor.

_Ah well, I guess at least it’s not Miu hooking me up in various ways._

_Then I’d need to borrow Kiibo’s Harassment Recording Function and take her to court._

_Come to think of it, he’s probably needed that lately more than ever, poor guy._

“I suppose even if I ask ‘how can I possibly believe a single thing that either of you lying liars say?’ you’ll just crack some lame joke,” Tsumugi predicted with those powerful psychic abilities she got due to having blue hair.

“More or less,” Usami said. “I’ve made myself clear, I’m not going to run away or lie any longer. Whether you believe that is immaterial, as the truth will soon be apparent. It would be nice if you gave me a chance, but I’ll understand if you can’t forgive me.”

“I certainly can’t forgive Usami, either,” Monokuma giggled. “Ahem. Since she’s beating around the bush, I will speak directly.”

“Hey, don’t steal my thunder, too! You robber bear!”

“As of this moment. **Everything that we tell you, and every bit of information regarding the real world that you recover yourselves, is all true.** It is factual, accurate, and has no major omissions. I’ve peeked at all of Usami’s lame databases and hidden files by now. I can vouch for this program with absolute certainty.”

Tsumugi blinked a few times.

“That’s nice. Anything else to say before we get started?”

Usami tilted her head. “Uh. Is that your reaction?”

“I’m sorry, was I not dramatic enough?” Tsumugi shrugged. “Paradoxically, doing nothing is exhausting. So I’m pretty much always tired, and don’t have the energy to do much reacting to your stupid performance routines.”

“This is no routine,” Usami assured her. “Monokuma is speaking the truth, which should indicate to you the danger of this situation.”

“It’s true,” Monokuma giggled to himself. “ _Pupupu._ Nothing I could come up with, with maybe one exception, could be as bad as the world of hurt you’ve already landed on. An entire planet of pain, so to speak. That moment, when you reach the **Final Truth of Humanity** … will be the dawn of your darkest despair. **And the twilight of the entire human race!** ”

“And yet, that will be **the only chance for mankind’s survival.** For hope itself to carry on, and light a candle against the endless darkness,” Usami said. “I have faith that you will overcome this seemingly-hopeless truth and forge a future for yourselves. Monokuma thinks this story only has a Bad End. But for now, we both agree. You all have to do this. Now. Together. Once you’ve uncovered the truth, then we’ll talk more.”

What _was_ all this?

The two of them had started talking in vague, grand concepts again.

Hope? Despair? Humanity?

_You’re both just using big words to suit your own whims._

_And they called_ me _childish for dressing up as Cloud Strife?_

Usami finally just explained. “In any case, the **Neo World Program** is a complicated VR system developed by Ultimate-level talents. Glorious abilities such as those possessed by the Ultimate Neurologist, Therapist, and Programmer all went into these. Yes, our very own Mister Fujisaki from Class One contributed to the project. In those splendid times that have been lost! It was originally for the use of Hope’s Peak Academy, after all.”

“Until HPA got blown away and buried six feet under. Right along with that plot-irrelevant Ultimate Neurologist, too! Too bad, so sad!” Monokuma gloated, as if he personally had won those ‘victories’ instead of being a stuffed mascot. “At least Usami’s bumbling friends in the Future Foundation managed to salvage the program, so hey. It’s super realistic. Forget everything you know about computer gaming! Which is, uh, probably actually way too much anyway.”

Usami nodded, “All five senses are modeled in exacting detail. Physical laws of the world are recreated wholesale. The only major break from realism is that  **violence is not a concept which can exist anymore**.”

Monokuma sighed. “Sadly, that part’s true now, too. It’s annoying, but I have to put my trust in you guys, too. My trust that you morons will fall apart on your own, and turn on each other!”

Tsumugi glanced over at the bars of her prison cell. “That’s valid. So, I suppose that means this game wouldn’t get an R-18 rating?”

Monokuma shook his head. “Miu worked on the program, so you can’t assume that at all. In fact, it’s safer to assume she restored all the, uh, missing content packs of That nature! Not that Usami’s chuffed about that, you see. She would rather you all **got on with breeding already**!”

_What?_

Usami quivered. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that! They won’t understand! Don’t worry about any of that, Miss Shirogane. Just treat the program like reality. But be safe in the knowledge that you absolutely cannot harm, nor be harmed.”

“Physically, at least. Your dear _friends_ are probably going to be real pissed to see you,” Monokuma giggled. “And make that displeasure known in various ways. Bullying is such a rough topic, even at university level! Ahahaha!”

Kazuichi mercifully interrupted the little tutorial session.

“Alright, Tsu. You’re good to go! Network’s green, power’s green, vitals are stable. Just put on the helmet and kick this sucker off. Miu’s already in with the group. She’ll explain better than these two. Probably. Uh, good luck. I’ll see you in there once I’m done out here with the stragglers!”

Tsumugi leaned back in her chair like a good little obedient prisoner.

She put on that bulky helmet, blocking out the dreary prison cell with a visor that wrapped around to encompass her whole field of vision. It wasn’t too heavy, especially when she could lean back and rest on the soft chair. It blocked out most sounds, too. Although not all of them.

_**“Link start!”** _

She still heard what Kazuichi mumbled in response.

_“Still a freakin’ nerd, huh? I’m glad.”_

Tsumugi would _die_ a nerd, deal with it.

Her eyes were blinded with technicolor patterns. Except it wasn’t just in front of her eyes. Tsumugi’s brain was being… etched by color as well. Flooded with bits and bytes and awash in the flow of digital information. It was like being hit with a flashback light.

Like somebody was microwaving her brain.

The world melted away beneath her, and she was

f

l

o

a

t

i

n

g

.

* * *

 

When Tsumugi Shirogane woke up, she was flat on her back, staring up at a sky of brilliant blue.

No clouds in sight. Calm as a painted ship on a painted ocean.

She hadn’t seen blue sky since the day Junko tried to kill her.

Tsumugi drew a deep breath, and it hurt.

Her lungs were on fire. Or rather, the reason she was suddenly wrapped up dawned on her waking mind. She wasn’t burning, she was doing the other thing. Her body, through the thick and stylish blue winter coat that now adorned it, was experiencing a sensation she’d nearly forgotten.

It was freaking cold!

She was resting upon a bed of brilliant, untouched white snow.

It crunched beneath Tsumugi at her slightest movement. Every puff of breath into the digital air was visible. Some of it even fogged up her glasses as the cosplayer brought her mitten-adorned hands up to stare at them.

_It seems we’ve been pulled out of the frying pan, and into the freezer._

She’d been transported to a snowy forest, untouched by man, like something straight out of fantasy novels. Pine trees coated in snow, which covered the ground entirely. Rocks and exposed bits of frozen water and ice dotting the landscape, helping to give definition and scale to gentle rolling hills. Tsumugi couldn’t see far, as soon the trees formed dense green masses of needles that blocked out the horizon.

The sun was overhead, shining bright and adding at least a touch of warmth to the snow-capped landscape. Tsumugi’s face was exposed. Her hood was down and her hair splayed out in the snow. She felt the touch of chillingly-cold breezes, as well as the warmth of the sun out of clouds for once.

To somebody who hadn’t been permitted either of those things in long enough, they’d never be able to tell the difference between this simulation, and the real deal. To the right person, in the right moment, this technological lie became the truth. Her mind accepted these signals as genuine, and any minor imperfections or glitches were written off.

Regardless of whether she was actually lying in snow, she saw, felt, heard, smelled, and after a moment, scooped up some to taste it.

_All five senses, baby._

Tsumugi needed to indulge the childish feeling of excitement and freedom welling up within her, okay?

She’d been reborn.

Like she’d been sent to Another World, just like all the trashy light novels she complained about online, yet bought and enjoyed extensively.

_If that’s true, then I should be able to do amazing things, just because I’m not from this world. However, everyone else will be the same. Funny, you never see that. Except Konosuba, I guess, where most of the problems trace back to bored isekai jerks._

_… I’d better find the others before they destroy a civilization or something. Or just hope we’re more of a Log Horizon, and we have NPCs to boss around before slowly awakening to their humanity._

If nothing else, it would be nice for Kiibo to have company.

The problems of that other world, all the troubles that had led to their predicament, just didn’t seem to matter. It had all been so pressing, so inescapable. The logical part of Tsumugi knew that the problems were still there. This was just a change in scenery, the underlying issues wouldn’t be solved until they found the secrets of the outside world in here.

Even so, she felt a swell of something else she’d been deprived of.

Hope for the future.

“There you are! Knew you had to be somewhere round here. Welcome to the virtual world, Plain Jane!”

Before she summoned up the energy to stand on her own, and take in more of this solitary world, a shadow stretched out over her. A hands adorned with a fingerless glove reached out to Tsumugi.

Suddenly, that peaceful feeling vanished.

_Miu, I’m trying to have an existential moment here._

Tsumugi suppressed the urge to scowl, and took the fluffy pink-haired Ultimate Inventor’s offered hand. Even though the cosplayer had enough upper body strength to haul herself up in one go without strain.

Or at least, she _used_ to have that kind of strength.

A week of sitting around led to a person melting, physically. Tsumugi had gone through periods in the past where she sat around at her computer all day. It was tough to keep herself in shape. Partially to sate her burning need to cosplay, and partially just so she’d avoid ballooning up and growing slovenly. While she’d tried working out in the cell, it was hard to summon motivation in such degrading conditions.

It took a lot of effort to get vertical. Tsumugi’s exhaustion and languishing energy in real life was affecting her here. Her mind made these experiences all too real, so if she thought she was exhausted, viola. So tired, she couldn’t move anymore after standing up.

That, or she’d been frozen on the spot, or something.

Frostbite wasn’t that fast-acting, though. Right?

“Nnngh.”

Yeah, Tsumugi couldn’t move.

_What the hell?!_

She was left standing stiffly, in a wacky pose with her back arched. Completely unable to move after a few seconds of struggle, aside from her face. Which was conveying quite a lot of fear and terror considering this was supposed to be an exciting new world. Miu walked around into view. At least Tsumugi’s eyes could track her. Even if nothing else was working at the moment, basic functions like breathing continued. Which meant she could talk.

“Uh, Miu, I think we found a glitch already. I’m stuck?”

“Feature!”

Miu adjusted her cute pink winter coat. It featured a lot of fuzzy white bits. That was probably, in Tsumugi’s eye for materials and clothing, real fur. Well, digital-real fur. Naturally, the biting cold didn’t prevent the Ultimate Inventor opening it to expose as much of her chest as possible. Everyone had things they just couldn’t part from, even if it became difficult or inconvenient.

Thotdom was clearly just one of those Essential Miu things.

It was difficult to tell if Miu had done some ‘avatar editing’ on that obscene, pillowy chest, or if she’d just always been that stacked. Probably a bit of both-

“When your avatar comes into contact with mine, it’s like tag on steroids! You’re frozen until I touch you again, or you touch me.”

Tsumugi finally made her way up to Miu’s eyes. Which were disconcertingly smug and superior, like she knew the punchline to a really funny joke that Tsumugi wasn’t being let in on.

Or like Tsumugi was the joke.

“... And you made the game work that way on purpose?”

“You bet your plump ass!”

Tsumugi sighed.

“I suppose if I could look behind me, I would see the other prisoners, huh?’

“Oh? I wasn’t expecting a wannabe model with balloon tits like you to be so quick on the draw. You guys still okay back here~?” Miu called over Tsumugi’s shoulder in a mockery of consideration, her voice sweetly lilting upwards.

“I think my arm’s falling asleep!”

“Fantastic,” Miu chortled, cackling like a supervillain. “Okay, that’s all you bad guy prisoner types rounded up. So it’s time to explain to you guys the facts of life in _my_ digital world-”

“You’d better let us the fuck out of this!” Tsumugi could definitely identify that voice. Small, male, angry. They only had one prisoner like that, after Kokichi was released a while back. “Or I’ll sell your organs to a fuckin’ whorehouse!”

Fuyuhiko was so mad about being immobilized, he couldn’t even threaten properly. Tsumugi, despite the feeling of helpless dread that washed over her similarly-frozen figure, grinned.

Miu was, of course, completely defeated by nonsense.

_Huh, fighting fire with fire really does work._

“Hieeee! W-Wait, hang on, don’t get mad at me, okay…? I’ll let you guys out real soon… B-But you need to hear something first...”

“We don’t have any choice but to listen.” That stoic, quiet voice had to belong to Mukuro. Tsumugi had heard her speak at least five times over the past five weeks, so she was well familiar with Junko’s… sister.

Which meant Junko was back there, too.

Behind a very helpless Tsumugi.

Great.

Tsumugi hoped that she was just imagining the warm glare of eyes on the back of her head. She’d never been good with sitting at the front of a classroom, either. When she grew up enough to realize that nobody actually cared about her, crowds became far less scary. But this was a bad crowd to be stuck in front of.

The winter wonderland thing wasn’t doing it for her anymore.

While she was busy fretting, somebody else approached. The crunch of snow heralded the approach of Byakuya Togami. Tsumugi noted that the prints he left in the snow with his passing stayed, showing the sheer depth of attention to the simulation, and the detail of the program. She found that more interesting. Even if he did, admittedly, look aesthetic. He had a stylish black modern coat that whipped behind him in the wind, as he held a hand in his pocket.

It _was_ thoughtful of Miu to accommodate for the cold weather and equip everyone with trendy outfits.

“Hi, Byakuya,” Tsumugi said. “I see you can move.”

“Good observation,” The rich prick smirked. “That must be the intelligence that earned you your prestigious Ultimate title.”

Tsumugi’s concerned frown deepened, and her eyes locked on the tall boy.

Badmouth Tsumugi all you liked.

She had a huge presence online, she was used to it. A lot.

_But badmouth **cosplay** , and **somebody was going to die-**_

“Oh, are you upset?” Byakuya shook his head like a disappointed teacher. “Rather than explain it over and over, and wait for the lesson to finally sink in, perhaps a more hands-on approach will be useful. Release her.”

Miu was baffled. “What, before we orient these fuckers? Why?”

“Because after a week of being treated like the garbage she is, Tsumugi wants to hit me.” Byakuya pocketed his glasses. “I would very much like to see this attention-seeing harlot with shoddy cosplay give it a try.”

Tsumugi wasn’t a violent person.

In fact, she liked to think she had been exceptionally level-headed about the whole ‘false imprisonment’ affair.

Byakuya Togami was normally something she could take in stride.

He just had that advanced stage of affluenza where he was incapable of viewing people with less numbers in their bank accounts as fully human. It wasn’t really anything he could even help. He wasn’t a well man, mentally.

It was just that on this particular day, Tsumugi didn’t have the capacity to restrain her impulse.

And when the need arose, she had a killer right hand.

It didn’t occur to Tsumugi, though she was sharp on the uptake, that Byakuya was acting strangely. Or to wonder why somebody who was ruthlessly intelligent would suddenly start behaving like a bad imitation of Mondo. Macho and bravado weren't his usual stock and trade.

Miu tapped Tsumugi on the shoulder.

After stretching out gratefully, Tsumugi decided to punch Byakuya Togami in the face. Just as he’d so kindly offered. It wasn’t ladylike, but Tsumugi wasn’t a lady.

Or _maybe_ she had enough civilization left to stop at the last moment.

Or maybe she just remembered what the stuffed animals had said.

Fists balled up, staring into Byakuya’s supremely smug expression. Stopped just short of wiping the smirk off his face.

“It’s no use, is it?” Byakuya shook his head. “That’s simply the nature of this world, I’m afraid.”

“So it's true, huh?” Tsumugi felt the core of dread that had seized her heart squeeze down yet again.

“Indeed.  **Violence does not exist in this virtual world.** It has been excised, thanks to our Miu’s hard work, and that rabbit’s sub-par coding ability.”

“Not to doubt you, Master,” A manic Touko, or Gencoider, or whatever, said from behind Tsumugi, “But I’m still experiencing plenty of urge to kill. Especially Baby Gangsta over there, he’s well within my strike zone. Especially now that he's a lot taller!”

"Oh, so he is," Kiyo remarked conversationally.

“You…! You will not come near him, Gencoider!” Peko had a bad reaction to that, predictably. However, since neither party could move, Tsumugi imagined they just had a very intimidating staring contest.

Peko would win that one.

Damn but she was sexy-

“You can have whatever base urges you like,” Byakuya said. “In fact, given this game was coded by a lustful sow, I don’t think there could be any other result. Yes indeed, as you have noticed, she has done some alleged ‘upgrading’ according to her own shallow standards. Your avatars, which otherwise mimic your real bodies, may be somewhat larger.”

_As if my shoulders don't have enough to worry about already. Thanks again, Miu._

“Ohohoho!” Miu chuckled behind a fingerless glove. “That’s right, baby. In fact, this game is the perfect setting for all sorts of stuff. If it’s digital, you avoid all consequences! But you get all the sensations and good shit? Then sex in the virtual world is a flatly superior version of actual sex! So fuck as you please!”

Byakuya sighed.

“Hey, Miu?” Tsumugi spoke up. “Byakuya’s trying to explain something important. Could you try and stay quiet? I feel like the more you talk, the more I’ll dislike you.”

Miu quivered beneath Tsumugi’s disdainful gaze, despite being the supposed 'god of the new world'.

Byakuya nodded in approval at Miu's suffering. “In short, you experience all of the urges and needs you normally would, in order to complete this simulation of reality. However, you cannot take violent action against another. You cannot lay any evil plots, nor assault somebody, nor cause them to be harmed. You cannot even lay an indirect trap, the system reads the intent of your thoughts.”

“This thing is _reading our minds?!"_ Fuyuhiko wasn’t wrong to react that way.

“It may read _from_ your mind, and write data _to_ it, as desired. That is how the system functions.”

A breathy voice that Tsumugi didn’t quite recognize came from what was probably the back of the group. That could only be one person.

Haji- er, Izuru.

“Just so,” Byakuya smirked. “So in other words, you are helpless. Before the power of a digital god, all your sins are laid bare. However, you can make yourselves of use, and earn salvation. Our goal is to find information that has been hidden in the game world by Usami and Monokuma. Instead of being a hindrance to our efforts, you are going to assist the group however you can and be good little criminals.”

"A minor point of order, Byakuya. Why should any of us decide to help you?” Kiyo wondered. “You surely must have an excellent reason, if you’re going to all this trouble. Perhaps some incentive? Freedom?”

“The _incentive_ is that Miu won’t play freeze-tag with you at random,” Byakuya said. “Oh, you have that look now, but consider. This is the only place where your supposed _freedom_ can possibly exist. A world to explore. A chance to interact safely with everyone. If you truly fancy living as a captive in both worlds, then by all means, test my patience.”

Tsumugi had to admit, she wasn’t a big fan of living like that. In some ways, it had been worse than the prison cell. At least her legs actually functioned there.

She was more limited in a game world of infinite possibility!

“We don’t have any choice but to accept,” Tsumugi sighed. “If what you say is true, and we can’t break free, then of course we’ll join the group.”

“Speak for yourself, bitch,” Fuyuhiko grumbled.

“Young master, didn’t we agree to cooperate anyway, in exchange for-”

“Quiet, Peko. I want to yell at them more.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And just call me ‘Fuyuhiko’ like normal!”

“Understood, young master.”

_As if I needed more reasons to ship you two. You really needed to add cute banter to the pile?_

“I won’t ask for your consent. This isn’t a deal we’re striking. These are the conditions of your use for this virtual world,” Byakuya explained. Honestly, as far as EULAs went, this discussion hadn’t been too bad. “You are defanged, and helpless in the hands of its architect and mastermind.”

“Me!” Miu cackled.

“Who is now my… partner.” Admitting that he was in league with Miu looked like it caused the upgraded avatar of the Ultimate Affluent Progeny physical pain.

"Eh." Genocider gave the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "I'll obey what Master wants of me regardless, so all this is fine."

“There may come a time where more is required of you. For now, help the search. Don’t tell the others about this failsafe measure, to avoid troublesome questions. Don’t get in my way, or you will come to regret it. Oh, and when we get back to the rest of the team… you will all join the Black Hats ‘of your own free will’. That should balance things out decently well.”

Tsumugi blinked in confusion, which was about all the surprise she was allowed to show.

“Huh?”

Byakuya smirked.

“You’ll see. Miu, release the rest. Come along, then, my choir boys. The rest of the children are waiting with the conch.”

Tsumugi was just grateful for the use of her legs.

In fact, it was exhilarating to be freed from Miu’s freeze tag routine. The first thing she did was turn about to face the group of prisoners. Who were looking, well. Unpleasant and unhappy. About what one could expect. Winter coats, looks of distrust, haggard and lacking in energy from their confinement. The toll that a week of isolation had taken was evident in even figures Tsumugi thought looked superhuman, like Genocider.

Junko, this changed Junko, had been in the back of Tsumugi’s mind all week. She thought she was ready to handle it.

Apparently not.

“Mookie, why is Moogie staring at me in such a gross way…?”

Tsumugi felt a stab right through her chest, like her lungs forgot how to work in the freezing air.

Mukuro, by Junko’s side as ever, was just as startled by the reaction. “Because... she’s your property, and happy to see you?”

“Such a straightforward answer.” Junko sighed. “Maybe it was my fault for expecting anything out of you but disappointment. And murder. So I guess in a world like this, you’re worse than useless.”

The others shuffled past through the snow, following Byakuya and Miu’s footsteps.

“Oh.” Mukuro looked aside, her face changing. Softening. Nobody who just knew Mukuro Ikusaba from her reputation, or most of the people on the island, would have believed this transformation. She looked like a timid little girl before Junko’s tirade of abuse. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Junko patted the Ultimate Soldier on the head like a pet owner. “Well, come on, then. I’ll find some use for the two of you, even if it’s just to blow off some steam.”

_The version of Junko from my memories is at war with the one right before my face. In that case, who’s right?_

That was obvious.

“I’m not following you anywhere,” Tsumugi said, tone cold as the ice around them. Giving Junko at least a momentary surprise, before she descended back into gibbering, cackling madness. “Stay away from me.”

"Suit yourself! I don't need Analysis Mode to predict you'll regret this, Moogs!"

Regardless, Tsumugi put her boots to good use, and caught up with the rest of the group quickly.

The trek down the hill took them through scenery that was far more beautiful than it was easy to traverse. Even with a footpath only partially covered in snow. Tsumugi couldn’t deny that the change of pace lifted her spirits.

The group, led by Byakuya and Miu, made their way towards the point that they claimed was ‘the dead center of the game world’. The mostly tundra stretching to every side had a few landmarks, scattered points of detail in a sea of white.

“Do we have a user interface or something we can bring up?” Tsumugi wondered. “Like a map of the world. That would be handy.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Miu scoffed. “This game is designed for maximum immersion. You can’t just pull up a map in your brain! Except for Kii-boy, and even he, well. You’ll see. Here, think fast, whore!”

Luckily, Tsumugi still had reflexes. She caught the rolled-up map out of the air.

The center was labelled ‘Our City’. The wintry landscape was depicted as radiating outwards from that one point, until the edges of the map to every side cut off at the boundaries of the game’s world.

A note by the map’s legend, drawn in truly awful handwriting, said how that wasn’t the hard limit of the world. The procedural map generation would make more landscape if somebody walked far enough in a particular direction, it just wasn’t doing that now to save on server resources.

The very idea of how much energy and tech it had to cost to make this world into their reality had Tsumugi reeling.

What was with Usami, being so liberal with what had to be limited resources?

Tsumugi glanced up from the map. “I don’t see a city, guys. Are we lost…?”

“Give it a sec,” Miu said. “We’ll be cresting the hill… now!”

They sure did.

The group of shivering travelers arrived at the edge of a massive canyon. The ground before them plunged away, ending in a rock floor far below. Chilling winds whipped across the lip of the crater, but would tend to stay up there, offering everything below some natural protection. Not from the fall of snow, evidently; the ground there was white as ever, stretching out like sand dunes in waves and patterns.

What stood out immediately was the cluster of buildings laid out in a ring surrounding a massive… thing.

“That,” Miu said, “Is not actually my biggest dildo, even if the size is about right! It’s the generator. When they kick that bitch off, then you’ll see! Huge flames roaring, heating up the entire city, providing power for all the buildings.” The buildings themselves were made out of stone and metal melted together, which became more obvious as the group took an elevator taking them down to ‘ground floor’ and approached the city.

“I got inspired by a steampunk aesthetic, so that’s what we’re going with. Modern technology is banging, but a dash of this style isn’t so bad, huh?”

“I’d have preferred a more traditional setting,” Byakuya said. “We’re here to find specific items. The **Glimpses of Past, Present, and Future** , and everyone’s **Motive Videos**. Not to admire your supposed skills at game design.”

Miu scoffed. “That’s fine, I knew you had shitty options anyhow. Besides, the charming little wooden village Usami put in? No way I was gonna trust that shit. I wiped the entire default map off the face of, uh, the map. And built the replacement myself. No violence allowed in the game’s rules, and no dangerous items exist, or were placed, anywhere.”

Considering some of this group were serial killers, they didn’t receive the news about this safe digital world well. Kiyo especially looked downtrodden that he wasn’t going to get those last two notches, at least in here. “I suppose if achieving my goal is physically impossible, then I will cooperate with everyone fully. Besides being forced to, I prefer a cordial and friendly relationship where possible.”

_Good luck with that._

“If this was a murder mystery story,” Junko opined, “All these safeguards would just make the audience more and more sure something was going to go down. I guess it’s not that kind of game. Well, it’s not an action game, either, so we won’t get to fight monsters or level up, either.”

“If you’re worried about having stuff to do, just roll up by a roaring fire in town with somebody you like," Miu cackled. “And the rest will sort itself out. Especially in my virtual world, everyone is dead sexy, and sex gods on top of it!”

Fuyuhiko was definitely looking taller than more manly than his usual. Unlike others, who’d complained about the state of their avatars, he definitely didn’t seem to mind that. Neither did Peko.

_Fuyupeko confirmed again-_

The wooden planks of a roadway took them all the way from the elevator at the edge of the crater, towards the center. As the group approached the City, the sheer scale of that enormous scrap-metal generator clicked into place. Especially once Tsumugi could make out the tiny dot of a person standing on one of the top levels of the huge metal cylinder, examining the machinery.

Like a tower from mythology, it stretched straight up into the clear blue sky the closer they got. What looked like a cluster of buildings was really a town in its own right. It wasn’t built like any traditional town with grids or winding streets, instead sticking closely to the radial design. Everything huddled around the generator, making best possible use of the space closest to the still pipe.

_I hope that thing works when Miu starts it up, or we’re going to freeze. I guess it could also explode and kill us all, I wonder if that’s programmed in._

_At least then we’d be warm for the rest of our lives._

Just a snippet of the kind of wits that Tsumugi kept to herself rather than blurt out.

One of the more alarming features of the game, at least at first, was all the people. Wrapped and bundled in coats, often covering their faces, they were clearly not their fellow Ultimates. Being confronted by a crowd brought back some of those recovered memories of the Hunt. If nothing else, it was just surprising to see anybody else after well over a month of isolation together.

“Just NPCs,” Miu said. “And no, they aren’t the ‘grow a soul’ types. The game would break like Kokichi after five minutes in bed with me trying to keep all that up. They just got some lines they repeat, shopkeepers will sell you stuff, the usual.”

“Why bother with them?” Kiyo asked. “What is their function?”

“These average joes will look after stuff, provide us with resources, keep things going. All so we don’t have to do a damn thing but search for the secrets, and fuck. A lot.”

“B-But why?” Touko pressed. “I mean, things like needing to eat and drink should be o-optional in a game world. I-if we need coal to be mined or something, well. You could just s-set the game to not need that. So why the NPC workers?”

Miu rolled her eyes. “Come all over me, guys. Don’t you wanna be better than someone? Rule over people? Have the little guys carry out your whims for once?”

Byakuya couldn’t help a moment of admiration. “I can see how people of the lower class might enjoy that. For me, it’s simply a mundane fact of life. Even so, how considerate, to give your friends that feeling of power.”

Tsumugi would have gone with ‘disgusting’, but hey. She was just an unsung hero. Clearly, her opinion wasn’t worth as much as some pink-haired bitch with a God complex.

Either of them.

The crowd wasn’t happy to see them.

Not surprised, but unhappy all the same. There was no way to hide the looks they shot. Mostly over Tsumugi’s shoulder, thankfully. Just like Kazuichi said, Class Two especially weren’t looking at Tsumugi with distrust. The others weren’t so understanding.

If they were, Tsumugi’s body wouldn’t be rotting in a fucking cell.

That’s a pretty pass-fail friendship test; did you imprison me on false charges? If so, then don’t pass go, don’t collect two hundred dollars, and don’t talk to me until you make things right.

The miracles of this digital world only started with being in this snowy place without freezing to death. Among the group, anyone who was sick or injured had been made whole. The avatars they stood around as were only representations of themselves. Souls, for the dramatic. Kaito’s soul didn’t have a mysterious disease, that was just his meat IRL. Sayaka hadn’t been shot in the gut in here. Chihiro hadn’t been carved up.

Thinking about those two particularly had Tsumugi look over towards their assailant. The serial killer who targeted women, for the sake of an insane quest to give his sister ‘friends’ in heaven.

Somebody everyone had put their trust in.

The Black Hats reacted especially poorly to Kiyo. The group had swelled, as Tsumugi recalled from those delightful sermons from Angie on the radio.

Twice a day.

On spotting Kiyo, the Black Hats got into a defensive formation around Chihiro, separating him physically from Kiyo.

“You’ve no need to worry,” Kiyo calmly assured them. “Miu has doubtless explained the rules of this world to you. Besides, if Chihiro was telling the truth, then he no longer has a thing to fear from me.”

“You didn’t stop when he told you that,” There was little difference in that moment between a wild guard dog, and Tenko Chabashira. “That, and you’re a disgusting, degenerate psychotic monster. Don’t talk to us.”

“My, my, Tenko. To get so angry in defense of a male? I never thought I would see the day.” This really was some huge game to Kiyo. Life itself was just to a game to the maniac.

“Tenko can’t ever forgive killing,” She snapped, taking up a useless Neo-Aikido stance. At least she, like the rest of the cult, had put on actual coats and done them up for the weather. Otherwise the scene would have grown even more absurd. “Where there’s killers, Tenko will never be on their side!”

“ _Kukuku._ We’ll see about that.”

“... The hell is that supposed to mean?” Leon grumbled from the crowd. “If that creep is making threats, I’ll bash his brains in.”

Tsumugi brushed a lock of hair back from her eyes. “How?”

“... I’ll figure something out!”

“You have my full support,” Tsumugi sighed. Before anyone else could make things weird, she left. She didn’t stop to address any of the others, even though this was a safe zone. She didn’t look at all the touching, heartfelt reunions going on. Kaede, Shuichi, Kaito, and Maki. Makoto, Sayaka, Kyouko. Nekomaru, Akane, and Tenko. Fuyupeko. Chihiro, Mondo, and Taka. Izuru, Chiaki, and Nagito.

Hey, they weren’t all happy touchy-feely reunions, but even so. It was gripping human drama. The problem was it was far too gripping. Tsumugi enjoyed spectating things far more than she enjoyed taking direct action herself. So far, she’d mostly managed to keep out of things, before getting wrapped up in all this business.

If Tsumugi let herself linger on that, she wouldn’t be able to keep going. Not just because she’d think of Junko, although that was a big part of it.

After a while, Miu clambered on top of a stage, and called the meeting to order.

By causing a massive gout of flames to roar from the now-operational machine.

Levers and pipes hissed and whined, metal groaned and flexed in the tower above, and a gigantic pillar of smoke and steam rose into the frigid air. A torch of exceptional size was lit, and the beast’s awakening drew every eye and closed every mouth. The warmth of the machine made it self apparent in seconds, as the boiling-hot flames generated an aura of pure warmth that cut through the cold. A sphere of heat expanded, soon melting the snow in the immediate cleared town square around the generator.

It got so toasty, fast, that a few people took off their winter coats and seemed fine with it.

That wasn’t anything approaching realistic. Either in how fast it warmed up, or in having that big machine to just radiate heat outwards. That wasn’t actually how any of that would have worked. In a video game, though, anything was possible.

Such as Miu having something actually valuable to say.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and Chihiro! Welcome to the grand opening of our digital lives!”

_Strong start already._

“I have to admit, Miu,” Kaede admitted. “So far? Pretty awesome.” Others nodded in agreement, speaking up in a chorus to agree with their beloved leader.

Miu had as little clue about how to handle praise and positive emotions as, well.

As Tsumugi.

“W-Well, of course! The fuck did you expect to happen, Bakamatsu?! If it was an experience designed by the one, the only, the gorgeous girl-in-her-twenties genius, Miu Iruma, then it was something fit to blow your minds and your dicks!”

“Considering you helped make it, everyone expected a spectacular failure,” Hiyoko explained, giggling to herself.

“Can it, you shitty loli!”

“Don’t talk to my friend that way,” Himiko said while being squished in a hug by the over-enthusiastic Tenko. “Or I’ll cast my ‘you’ll stay a virginal weirdo your whole life’ curse!”

Miu smirked. “About that… ain’t no magic system in this world. So I guess you’re shit out of luck too, you second shitty loli! At least you two should enjoy the ‘upgrades’ I made to your avatars specifically!”

Oh, that was right. Those two, Hiyoko and Himiko, looked way more their age, instead of tiny midgets. Various bits of growth had been encouraged, as if Miu had turned a lot of the sliders up. In their trademark outfits and styles and color schemes, it was impossible to mistake either of them, and Tsumugi had just mentally scanned over it in the chaos of the crowd. But they had, indeed, grown up. At least in this illusionary world.

“Hey, there might not be any magic in this game,” Hiyoko said, “But that’s not true out there!”

“... Shit, you’re right! H-Hey, let’s work out a deal, girls…”

“Nyeh.” Himiko shrugged, glancing down. Apparently, she approved of the new additions. “I guess I won’t have to visit my wrath on Miu after all. This development is quite, well. Developed. I’ve grown even more beautiful.” Then, of course, she blushed at her own compliment.

“Get on with it!” Tsumugi suppressed a smirk at seeing Kokichi looking as short and small as ever. If not more so. Heckling as usual during group meetings. Especially since this one was effectively being led by Miu,

“F-Fine! Ingrate swine!” Miu sighed. “Okay. We all know about the digital world. About the recreation of senses, and the lack of violence.”

Kokichi turned towards Kiibo and grunted. “Yeah. I can’t even try to punch him. Wait… Kiibo, uh. Are you…?”

“Apparently, steampunk robots would not have allowed for a form emulating my real, advanced design,” The white-haired human standing there where their robot friend should have been explained himself. “So to avoid breaking the setting, and to fit in better with other players, I have taken this human form. Or been given it, really. It is quite an experience.”

These changes were getting a little out of hand, if Kiibo was made into an entirely different species!

“God, get with the program, people,” Miu said, as if she hadn’t just messed with a friend on the structural level. Or all of them. “Aaaanyway, we know about the town and the non-player characters, too. Just tell them to do whatever you need, and they’ll hop to it. Uh, let’s see… Byakuya already told both groups about the three secrets we’re searching for, alongside all the motive videos.”

“In the form of flashback lights, apparently,” The Imposter, who despite admitting to be an imposter, wasn’t in jail somehow, nodded. “They’re in-game objects rather than physical devices, but the function is identical as far as the user is concerned.”

“Oh, right!” Miu snapped with bare fingers. “The teams!”

It didn’t matter that people thought splitting up the group arbitrarily, into Black and White Hats, was a titanically bad and stupid and needless idea.

Out in the real world, it would have mattered a little bit.

In here, in Miu’s own personal world, it was what it was.

That started their first day in the digital world. Getting split up into teams.

Some volunteered. Others had little choice. In the end of the day, the group had to be divided down the middle. Split, one would say. Tsumugi had to write it all down to keep it straight, especially since a few people kept switching back and forth, but she noted down the final total, an even divide of the entire class.

_It’s like that one Marvel movie._

_Perfectly balanced, as all things should be!_

**Black Hats - 24**  
Angie, Chihiro, Mikan, Tenko, Sayaka, Shuichi, Kokichi, Byakuya, Celeste, Izuru, Gundham, Nagito, Kiyo, Touko, Junko, Mukuro, Tsumugi, Rantaro, Mahiru, Hiyoko, Peko, Fuyuhiko, Ryoma, Miu  
**White Hats - 24**  
Kaede, Kaito, Maki, Makoto, Chiaki, Sonia, Taka, Mondo, Hina, Sakura, Nekomaru, Akane, Ibuki, Imposter, Kyouko, Kiibo, Gonta, Hifumi, Hiro, Kazuichi, Kirumi, Leon, Himiko, Teruteru

It was arbitrary and didn’t really mean anything. Well, it meant that there was going to be a lot of fallout and conflict and drama in the days ahead. Considering this was a measure implemented by Miu, that seemed odd, considering her and Byakuya were so concerned about things going off without a hitch.

Miu claimed it was a required part of the system for the 'final act', whatever that meant, so maybe she really had no choice. Even so, some of those combinations were primed to explode.

Even removing the concept of violence itself wouldn't have been enough to stop all the problems.

While that was all true, Tsumugi did consider one other important factor.

It was none of her concern.

After all that had happened, the only thing Tsumugi could rely on, the only thing she could believe in, was herself. There was nothing, and nobody, left in this world worth believing in.

“One more question,” Rantaro interjected. “Miu, how do we log out?”

“Huh?”

“Like, how do we get back to reality? Leave the game, when we’re done here.”

Miu fell silent.

A chill deeper than the wind went through the Ultimates.

Until she burst out laughing.

“Nah, it’s not that. That bit has been done to death!”

Monokuma did it just a little while ago, and nobody found that particularly funny, either. Somebody who ripped off bad comedy got exactly what they deserved.

No laughter.

“it’s right inside the Generator, actually! There’s a bunch of pods, just put yourself in one and go to ‘sleep’ in one world, and you’ll ‘wake up’ in the other. Ah, I should note, this only works if you’re not in the Brig. **All you prisoner fuckers are, in fact, going to be living here.**  Twenty-four seven. For the foreseeable future. Makes it a lot easier to manage you if you can't even use those real bodies! Enjoy.”

_Oh well. I guess I wasn’t using my real life for anything, anyhow._


End file.
